The Great Fanfic War
by AEMI
Summary: NOT NEW, but the COMPLETED STORY! BEST READ IN ONE GO! after The Trial of Tolkien + sequel of same author WARNING!!!! POLITICALLY INCORRECT STORY!!!Fanfic fans' sensibilities may be offended.
1. War Council

The ten members of the Fellowship of the Ring, blackcloacked and hooded, sat around a circular, dark oaken table. They were ten, for Author J.R.R. Tolkien had been voted Honorary Member, and indeed the Fellowship could not very well keep their own Creator out of the debate whether and how to wage war upon their new Arch-Enemies : the Fanfic Writers. At first they had directed their ire at the Author himself (Read : The Trial of Tolkien and TToT, The Sequel) for many - most - well, all of them took exception to the way he had portrayed them. The Hobbits and Legolas had been the first to mellow, and the Elf the first to point out that their justifiable anger was misdirected : the sins of the Fanfic Writers were far worse than Tolkien's peccadilloes. Death had made Boromir no less of a man of action, and War on the numerous Fanfic Writers promised more action than Vengeance of one single Man, so he was happy to go along with them. Gandalf and Gimli had been far harder to convince, for Dwarves bear long grudges and Wizards are quick to anger. As for Aragorn.he did as Arwen told him, and she was currently more angry about the slash fics figuring her husband than happy over the ones in which she was portrayed as a Warrior Elf and a Strong Woman, rather than an embroidering ninny. So Aragorn had his seat on the Warcouncil, with his wife standing right behind him. There had been a slight argument on who was to preside : as Author, Tolkien felt he should be it, whereas Gandalf as Head of the White Council and senior member present felt he should be the one, but Arwen was set on Aragorn, and who can stand against a Strong Woman once her mind is made up, especially an Elf -woman? Only another Elf. A Woodelf at that; whose cunning is proverbial. Legolas first suggested they should vote on it, then bribed Frodo with a plate of mushrooms into putting him forward as a candidate, bought the other Hobbits votes with the promise of a taste of real Mirkwood Mushrooms, The Best to Be Had, talked Tolkien into withdrawing his candidature (there's nothing so eloquent as an Elf, and Tolkien loved Elves anyway) and, Gimli's support already a given, he won the election with a comfortable majority. And so it was Legolas who called the Warcouncil of ten (plus Arwen) to order. His first deed as Chairman was to appoint Boromir to draw up a Plan of Action. This pleased the Man of Gondor no end, and he immediately pulled out his laptop to open his chatline; "As my online colleagues have experience in the field of terrorism I'll ask them for advice." he said, and happily logged in. "Excellent." said Legolas, "Now I believe that we should draw up a list of griefs against these Fanfic Terrorists, much as we did with Master Tolkien ,whom we now count as one of us, and greatly wronged too." He deferentially bowed his head towards the Author. They all began talking at once, vociferously voicing their complaints. "They kéép telling the same old story over and over again, with additions and embellishments and whèn they write an Post-RotK fic it's still the same story: Evil Enemy, Fellowship gets together, journey through caves, get set upon by orcs, get captured, get killed." "And the torture, don't forget the torture!" "Or all those silly girls." "And the sex with each other! I don't wànt to have sex with Legolas or Boromir or Halbarad or anyone." "Excuse me?" "Except you, of course, my love." "You'd think that me having fourteen kids would be a vast pointer as to my tastes.but no, they keep coupling me to and with Master Frodo, I don't wànt Master Frodo, begging your pardon." "I'm just two things: cute and weak, and when Sam's not on top of me they make me fall ill all the time." "I'm just the one half of a Comic Duo." "And I'm the other half! And that 'Fool of a Took' thing is really overdone." "I seem to be having an inordinate amount of apprentices and/or daughters! Don't they know that Wizards.well, Wizards don't." "They can't even get our names right!" "They spent an awfull lot of time learning Elvish, but they don't take the trouble to spell correctly in their own language." "I don't think they have read my books thoroughly. I was quite extensive in the details, I even drew a map, but they simply can't get their facts in order. Take distances for instance: there's a whole mountainrange and a vast forest between Rivendell and Thranduil's Realm, and they seem to think you can make thet journey in a couple of days.I blame jet-airplanes. They don't know anymore what time it takes to wàlk ." "Why do they insist we Hobbits are food-obsessed?" "Well, you are." "Are not." "Are too." "Not!" "Order!Order!" cried Legolas, rapping the wood of the table before Pippin and Gimli could get into a fight. "Frodo, you write in a fair hand, I suggest you copy down all our griefs. Boromir, have your contacts come up with some ideas yet?" "Some. The one says bomb them back into the Stone-age, the other swears by sending in the tanks.I'm not sure that's quite workeable given the kind of Enemy we're up against." Arwen bend over and whispered something in Aragorn's ear. "Maybe we should define for ourselves what the Enemy is, exactly, first."said he. "EVIL!!!" they cried in unison. "Naturally." said Arwen, taking over from her husband, "But a more insidious kind of evil than your average Dark Lord.This is Evil disguised as Fandom. They actually love us." "Do all Men kill the Thing they Love?" mused Tolkien poetically. "Oh dear!" cried Merry, "Will it come to that?" "It already has in my case." said Legolas, "I've been killed in several of these fics, and resuccitated so that they could have another go at their favorite game of 'Let's make Legolas Suffer Horribly.' Not to mention the romances with either gender I am plagued with. Enough to put you off for the rest of your life, which in my case is Eternal. Yes, this is indeed a subtle cruelty, packaged as 'adoration'." Frodo looked up from his busy scribbling. "Couldn't we just ask them to stop it? I mean, if they like us so much I don't believe they actually want to see us hurt." "I get the feeling that that is precisely what they want." mused Legolas, "They don't think we're real, that's the trouble." "Typical." muttered Gimli. "That's fictional specieism, that. Just because we don't exist in their reality doesn't mean they can toss us around. Nobody tosses a Dwarf." "We're all agreed on that!" said Legolas hastily, "Still, Frodo has a point. We should make ourselves known, state the problem clearly, suggestions for a possible solution." "Total cessation of the Fanfic Terror, of course." said Gandalf. "Oh yes, that indeed is our goal." said Legolas, "Now as to get there, this is what I propose : that we should send them a note of warning first." "An Ultimatum!" cried Boromir enthousiastically, " We must be firm in this. State our terms and stick to them : if they do not meet those terms within the timelimit we set them." "It will be Total War!" said Gandalf, thumping the ground with his staff. Legolass nodded in agreement. "Then we are decided? All those in favour of sending an Ultimatum say aye." "AYE!!!!" cried eleven voices as one. 


	2. Ultimatum

ULTIMATUM

We, the Author of The Lord of The Rings (et al) and the Peoples of Middle Earth, to the Fanfic Writers of Fanfiction.net, hail.

Article one.

The Author and the appointed Representatives of the Peoples of Middle Earth do hereby accuse the Fanfic Writers of Fanfiction.net of crimes against the said Author, Elvendom, Mankind, Dwarvendom, Hobbitkind, Entdom and Wizardkind.

Article two.

All experience has shown that the said Author and Elvendom, Mankind, Dwarvendom, Hobbitkind, Entdom and Wizardkind are more disposed to suffer while evils are sufferable; but when a long train of abuses and usurpations, persueing invariably the same Object evinces a design to reduce them under absolute Despotism, it is their right, it is their duty, to throw off such a yoke, and to provide Guards for their future security. 

Such has been the patient sufferance of these Peoples; and such is now the nescessity which constrains them to take action. The history of the said Fanfic Writers is a history of repeated injuries and usurpations, all having in direct object the establishment of an absolute Tyranny over these Peoples. To prove this, let Facts be submitted to a candid world (see Subsection A).

Article three.

The said Fanfic Writers have been found guilty of the crimes as stated in Articles one and two (see also Subsection A) by the Author and the appointed Representatives.

Article four.

The Author and the appointed Representatives allow the said Fanfic Writers exactly one month (30 days, from date of posting) to cease these activities as stated in Articles one and two (see also Subsection A). 

Article five.

The Author and the appointed Representatives demand that within the timelimit set in Article four, the said Fanfic Writers will make a full apology to the Author and the Peoples of Middle Earth.

Article six.

The Author and the appointed Representatives demand that within the timelimit set in Article four, the said Fanfic Writers will fully withdraw all their offensive Fanfics from Fanfiction.net (see also Subsection B).

Article seven

Should the said Fanfic writers fail do do as stated in Articles four to six, the Author and the appointed Representatives will consider their actions and all further actions as hostile.

Article eight.

In the case of continued and prolonged hostile actions (see Article seven) the Author and appointed Representatives will have no other option but to take appropriate counter-actions.

Article nine.

The Author and the appointed Representatives do unanimously agree that in the cases as stated in Articles seven to eight (see also Subsection A) they shall be compelled to declare Total War upon the said Fanfic Writers.

Subsection A.

The said Fanfic Writers have called hither strange peoples at places unusual and uncomfortable for the sole purpose of fatiguing us into compliance with their desires. They (the said Fanfic Writers) have endeavoured to pervert the population of these lands and the works of the Author. They have made characters dependent on their will alone, for the tenure of their parts. They have erected a multitude of New Characters and sent hither swarms of Mary Sues to harrass our people and act out their perversions. They have kept among us, in times that should have been peaceful, standing armies of Orcs, Trolls and 

other assorted enemies that otherwise would not have been there.

They have combined us with literary characters alien to our world and customs to act out tales and happenings that would otherwise not have been. They have deprived us of the benefits of a lasting peace. They have transported us to other worlds to act out their imaginings there. They have tortured our people, raped our men, changed our characters and destroyed the lives of many for their amusement. They are at this time transporting large Armies of New Enemies and Others to complete the works of death, destruction and tyranny already begun with circumstances of cruelty and perfidy scarcely paralleled in the most barbarous of ages, and totally unworthy of representatives of a civilised species. 

Subsection B

All actions of the kind as stated in Subsection A are accounted offensive to the Author and the Peoples of Middle Earth.

We, therefore, The Author and the appointed Representatives, in War Council assembled, appealing to the Supreme Judge of the world for the rectitude of our intentions, do in Name and by the Authority of the good Peoples of Middle Earth, sollemnly publish and declare this as Truth Absolute.

And for the support of this Ultimatum, with firm reliance on the protection of Valar Providence, we mutually pledge to each other our Lives, our Fortunes and our sacred Honour.

SIGNED AND SEALED :

The Author :

John Ronald Reuel Tolkien (deceased), Professor of Anglo-Saxon, Oxford University

The Representatives: 

Elvendom : 

Legolas (Greenleaf) son of Thranduil, Lord of the Woodland Elves of Ithilien, Chairman of the War Council.

Mankind: 

Aragorn son of Arathorn, Estel, Elessar the Elfstone, Thorongil, Telcontar (Strider), Dunadan (et al) , King of the United Kingdoms of Gondor and Arnor

Dwarvendom : 

Gimli son of Gloin, Lord of Aglarond (The Glittering Caves)

Hobbitkind:

Frodo Baggins, son of Drogo Baggings, Ringbearer.

Entdom : 

Fangorn (Treebeard)

Wizardkind :

Gandalf the Grey, Olorin, Mithrandir, Tharkûn, Incanus, Maia and Istari, Head of the White Council.

COUNTERSIGNED : 

The joint Chiefs of Staff:

Boromir son of Denethor (deceased), Commander in Chief of the Armies of the United Kingdoms of Gondor and Arnor

Arwen Undomiel, daughter of Elrond of Imladris (Rivendell), Queen of the United Kingdoms of Gondor and Arnor.


	3. Operation Praying Mantis

The Author and Appointed Representatives of Middle Earth were in Council. The period of time that had been allowed to the Fanfic Writers (or Terrorists, as they were more aptly named now) had not yet passed, but allready the War Council was discussing possible forms of retaliation.

"How much progress are we making in identifying the culprits?" Legolas wanted to know.

"Hoom !Hoom! Hom!" boomed Treebeard, who had been put in charge of that job. Ents are good at making lists and classifications,plus they have the added advantage of lacking stomachs, so they were not sick all the time, as the Hobbits, who had first been set to this task, were (Hobbits too are great at inventories, having to keep track of the contents of their larders as well as their numerous family-relations).

"It was difficult at first, Hoom!Hom! But now that we have defined the paremeters of what is acceptable and what is not, we are making fair progress, Hom! However, new ones keep cropping up at all times. Fortunately, the Terrorists do us the favour of rating their own work and give 'slash'warnings…Hoom!"

"Those will have been automatically Blacklisted, surely!" said Gimli.

"Not nescessarily." Legolas informed them, " We don't want to be taken for bigotted prudes. The parameters include stories of a sexual nature that are not overly graphic or violent, set within a loving relationship that does not interfere with pre-existing relationships. A huge sacrifice on my part, since I get most of the Mary Sues."

He sighed," I've had a long discussion with Elrond on the subject. That is when we put in the 'pre-existing relationships' clause. Somehow these people got the idea that Celebrian is dead, instead of Overseas, or that with such a long-distance relationship Elrond is in need of consolation in the form of sexual gratification..from me, more often than not. He was quite disgusted with the thought that he would ever betray his beloved wife."

"Oh, these people believe that sex is the cure for and the answer to everything." growled Boromir. "I get a couple of stories like that too. Either I am nursing a broken heart or struggling with my (supposed) homosexuality, their solution is always the same: have a good fuck with a fellow you hardly know. Really, just because thèy are like rabbits, it doesn't mean wé have to be!"

"Ahem!" said Tolkien, blushing a deep red, " These are young people and far too oversexed. Do not judge our entire race by the imaginings of hormonally overcharged teenagers!"

"Hoom! Some appear to be already in their twenties and older!" objected Treebeard.

"However, we shall give you the benefit of the doubt."Legolas assured the embarrassed Author, generously.

"Now, Master Fangorn, how do your people fare? The task is onerous: does it not put too much of a strain on you?"

"Hoomba-Hom! Master Elrond provides much-needed counselling sessions. We manage, Hom! We manage. But it is a good thing that Ents rarely figure in those stories, and not in those of a sexual nature."

"So far." muttered Gandalf , "The mind boggles."

At that moment there was a ringing sound, coming from Frodo's pocket.

"Excuse me, I have a call." said the Hobbit, and whipped out a cell-phone. He checked the tiny screen.

"It's Fatty Bolger. He assists Bregalad the Ent with the catalogue; the non-slash Hobbit-centered stories. When in doubt, they give me a call. There appears to be a problem. May I? It won't take long, I hope."

"Please do."

There followed a hurried conversation which the others politely tried to ignore, untill Frodo suddenly exclaimed : " I am having _whàt_ on top of _whàt_?!!!? No, Fatty, I don't care how sweet or well-meant, it is definitely one for the Blacklist…for how many chapters does this go on…_eleven, so far?_ And they expect me to survive? Whàt? 

A _Society_? Oh yes, definitely one for the Blacklist. And pass this information on to Merry, will you? As Chairman of the League of Protection against Cruelty to Hobbits he will need the data. Thank you."

He pocketed his cell-phone with an expression between exasperation and disgust.

"I hesitate to ask…" began Legolas, cautiously.

"It's not what you think, " said Frodo, blushing fiercely, "It wàs a dubious case and Fatty was quite right to call. You see, this particular author, though anti-slash herself, has me have pneumonia on top of Caradhras…ànd there is this Frodo-Sick Society for those who love to see me weak and agonising. _What is wrong with these people! _ Being ill is not a pleasant state of being."

They were all aghast.

"If even the anti-slash ones are intent on making us suffer one way or another…"

"With all that snow you could not have survived! The Quest would have eneded there and then!"

"I suppose Sam would have talken up the Burden, or Merry. But can anyone please tell me what is so interesting or - Valar forbid - entertaining to write, let alone read, about illness?"

"Oh, that's an overly feminine thing." said Arwen, "They just want to mother you."

"I _don't_ need to be mothered, I get quite enough of that from Sam, thank you very much, and I _don't _want to be any more ill than the books made me already!!!" said Frodo hotly.

"Ah, but you see, most of these writers are women. It is a sad thing that they do not concentrate on their own lives and careers instead and achieve self-fulfillment by other means than this surrogate Motherhood. The Feminist Movement has a long way to go yet."

"I dread to think what human mothers are like if nursing sick children are their form of entertainment. " said Frodo sourly, "Perhaps they find it 'cute'?"

"Don't use that word!" groaned Legolas, " It has been applied in reference to me so often that I am heartily sick of it! Along with 'cool', 'hot', 'yummy' and the rest."

"Good Lord!" exclaimed Tolkien who, having been dead for thirty years was not acquainted with the latest idiom, "Do they think you are some kind of beverage, or edible or something?"

"I only wish they did." replied the Elf sadly, "Apparently these words, in their terminology mean 'sexually attractive''…oh, Elbereth!" he suddenly went deadly pale, " Master Tolkien, I do not know how it goes with humans exactly, but are you perhaps like those insects where the female, during mating, while the male is…." He choked.

"You mean Praying Mantisses? "asked Tolkien, visibly shaken, "No, certainly not, not in my day at any rate. Nowadays, I am not so sure…"

"Got it!" exclaimed Boromir all of a sudden.

"Got what?"

"A good Code-name for our Mission :'Operation Praying Mantis', how does that sound?"

The name was unanimously adopted.

Legolas turned towards the Chief of Staff (jointly with Arwen) and asked how far he was with the preparations for the coming War.

"Well underway!" enthused the Man, " First of all, I've been doing extensive research on rearmament. I trust that this time …" he shot a dark glance at Gandalf, " You do not object to our use of àll available resources. I was thinking of a couple of Stealth Bombers, a Cruise Missile or two, some Excocet Rockets…"

"Whoa!"cried Aragorn , " Have a care for our sadly depleted Treasury! We have the War Damage still to think about : The rebuilding of Minas Tirith , Minas Ithil , Osgiliath, the entire Westward Road, the Watchtowers of Amon Sûl, Amon Din, Amon Hen, Amon Lhaw…." He was ticking off on his fingers "A costly affair."

"And your new wardrobe." put in Arwen, "You really have to abandon the Ranger-look, dear, if you want to be in any way representative as King. You need to work on your image."

"Whatever you wish, dear." said Aragorn lamely.

"I've placed an order for those Armani-suits your P.R. manager, Faramir recommended. And you will wear them."

"Yes , dear."

"Marrying an Elf-woman is a good career-move." said Legolas, with only a hint of a smile on his lips, " And one does so have to make sacrifices for one's career."

"I did notice some change in you, Strider." said Frodo, "It's not the clothes, but…something different…"

"I shaved!" said Aragorn proudly.

"Quite!" said Legolas, his smile now open and broadening, "Good man, that Faramir: knows his job. I always did say a clean-shaven face makes all the difference."

He continued to smile sweetly despite the poisonous looks he got from Gandalf and Gimli.

"Now, as to the matter of financing our war…"

"Not a problem," cut in Gimli, " We, the Dwarves, have pledged all our Gold to the Cause."

There was a momentary silence as everyone reflected upon this announcement. For a Dwarf to part with his Gold he must deem the Cause worthy indeed. It just went to show how deeply incensed they were with the Fanfic Terror.

"The Dwarves will not be the only ones to contribute to the War Effort." said Legolas., " My father Thranduil too has pledged his Treasure and all the Jewels of our House to the Cause. He was furious when he learnt of those stories in which he is portrayed as either a drunken sod or a child-battering brute, or both. Needless to say, so am I. To portray an Elf as an abusive parent is pure defamation of character, a smear on the entire species which , unless withdrawn and apologised for soon , will be washed out in blood. And believe me, it takes a lot for the House of Oropher to become bloodthirsty!"

"Good, we're in funds then!" said Boromir with satisfaction, " Now that the problem of financing the armament is solved, there remains the matter of targetting. However, the GIA is working towards a solution…"

"Excuse me!" interrupted Tolkien, "I believe the GIA is a human terrorist movement. Surely you are not thinking of joining forces with them?"

"Not at all!" laughed Boromir, " Though it is an interesting notion. They say it takes a Thief to catch a Thief, perhaps it also takes a Terrorist to get rid of a Terrorist. Worth looking into. But…no, GIA stands for Galadriel Intelligence Agency. If it pleases the Council, I shall call in the Lady, that she may explain her methods herself."

It pleaseth the Council, and moments later, the Elven Queen swept in.

In a sharp, business-like manner she came to the point at once.

"Our system is based upon the idea of spy-satellites. We of course have something better : my Mirror, and the Palantiri of Minas Tirith, Orthanc, and the recovered one which Sauron stole from Osgiliath. Incidentally, we are in the process of locating the four others: hopefully they are not all destroyed or irretrievably lost. In the mean time we make good use of what we have left. Fortunaly, these Fanfic Terrorists are so vain that they provide us more often than not with a complete biography, which helps us identify the person behind the mostly ridiculous pen-names."

"Indeed!" cried Frodo, "If they have the cheek of writing that filth, they should at least have the courage of putting their true names to it!"

"A point well made." said Legolas, "And another one against Them. So, my Lady, you have been able to identify and locate a Terrorist?"

"By concentrating on my Mirror, keeping the biographical data in mind, I have, yes. We have rigged up a connection between the Mirror and the Palantiri . As you know, one can influence a person's mind through these."

"But only if that person also possesses a Palantir!" objected Gandalf, "Which these people do not."

"Ah, no, but they do have something similar: their Internet-connected Computers!"

"Oh, Sweet Vengeance!" cried Tolkien, "They shall be, so to speak, hoisted upon their own petards!"

"Absolutely!" gloated Boromir, "Once identified, the moment they log in their minds will be taken over via the Palantiri. Then all we need to do is direct them to congregate in a secluded area - we don't want too much Collateral Damage after all - where to I shall direct my new Cruise Missiles and BANG!!!" he clapped his hands for effect, "Exit the Fanfic Terrorists!!!"

The entire Council cheered.

"Still, we must allow them a chance to repent." said Legolas, "The time alloted them in our Ultimatum has not yet passed. After that, if they have not met with our Demands, we shall take action. However, I suggest a …how would you call it , Boromir? Something to do with operations…"

"Surgical Strike? "

"Ah, yes, Thank you. A Surgical Strike on the worst cases first, as an Exemplary Warning. Once Treebeard's lists are complete we can pick out just the ones. I believe we are in agreement on what shall be done?"

"Exterminate them!" chorussed the Council.

"Exterminate!Exterminate!"


	4. A brief History of Fandom

The War Council was in recess. They had just been listening to a lengthy exposé of Tolkien's about the whys and wherefores of his work, and how the public reacted to it in the early years. This was meant as an introduction to a History of Fandom, a study the ever scrupulous Legolas had commissioned from their resident historian, Bilbo Baggins. 

In preparation for what would probably be an even lenghtier exposé, Gandalf, Gimli and Tolkien , now completely reconciled, retired for a quiet smoke outside on the terrace. Aragorn looked at their retreating backs with thinly-veiled envy. Not only had Arwen banned smoking from the Council Chamber ('It's a Public Health Hazard! Thank You For Not Smoking!!!') she had also taken away his pipe and tobacco altogether on the grounds that it was for his own good and she didn't want to kiss someone tasting like a wet ashtray. 

So he retreated into a corner with a small beer (his alcohol intake was also severely curbed) where Frodo, not much of a smoker (for a Hobbit anyway), joined him with a pint of his own.

The other non-smoking members of the Council sat together, Legolas and Treebeard comparing the relative merits of Dorwinion wine and Entdraughts, Boromir a happy arbiter and sampler inbetween.

Among the smokers, the subject of discussion was - of course - Fanfics.

"It will never cease to amaze me that these authors and there reviewers can't even see how out of character they have you all behave. Take the endless harping on the Elf-Dwarf fued, for example;;;"

"The feud exists." said Gimli, taking a puff," Sadly enough. I used to think badly of Elves too. But it's six of one and half a dozen of the other I suppose."

"Exactly! But you kept your feelings to yourself. I cannot recall more than three instances where either you or Legolas made a scathing remark about the other's species."

"Gloin reminded Legolasof his treatment at the hands of the Woodelves, at the Council of Elrond." said Gandalf, remembering, "And in Hollin you, Gimli, pointed out that it was not the fault of the Dwarves that the friendship between Elves and Dwarves had waned."

"To which Legolas responded that he had not heard it was the fault of the Elves. " said Gimli, beginning to count, " And at the Nimrodel we had a similar exchange about the Balrog. The only time we almost quarreled was in Lothlorien, where they wanted to blindfold me and I protested, and Legolas called a curse upon the the stiff necks of the Dwarves."

"But I never spoke a word against you when Haldir expressed his doubts about you!" Legolas, whose sharp Elven ears had picked up the exchange, called from across the room through the open window. "And we became friends afterwards."

"Four times in all, and only three of those between Legolas and me." said Gimli, " Yet they make such a big deal out of it! We hardly exchanged words untill Lothlorien, but in some Fanfics it's like we bickered all the time. Or play childish, even dangerous, pranks on each other."

"Unrealistic!" said Boromir, joining them, " You're both responsible adults, and if you hadn't behaved as such, you'd be kicked off the team. You'd never have been put on the team in the first place! After all, we were on a Life-saving Mission where Team-spirit is of the essence…"

They stared at him.

"Hey, I was a good Team-player in the end! I dièd for the Team! Can I help it if the Evil call of the Ring was too great? I am not a Traitor, I'm just written that way."

"I am so sorry," apologised Tolkien, " I needed to put that in, for the sake of the Story, and to illustrate the Treath the Ring represented. You were a honourable man, and cared greatly for your people's welfare: as a military man, the Ring represented to you a means to free your people, and that made you most vulnerable : it sensed that, and used it against you to corrupt you. Yet you shook yourself free, and died a noble death, in compensation."

Boromir muttered something that sounded regretttably like "A noble pincushion, yes, some compensation!" and rejoined Legolas and Treebeard. 

The Elf and the Ent had gone on to the subject of slash.

"I don't see the need of it…what point are they trying to make? What relevance do our sexual preferences have to the plot of the Story?" asked Legolas.

"The point of the Story is the Quest, in which the Ultimate Goal is to throw the Ring into Mount Doom and so destroy Sauron." said Treebeard.

"Which was hard enough to achieve in the Original. But with all these sub-plots and deviations and endless soul-searchings , not to mention the tiresome romances and multiple Mary-Sues, that seems nigh on impossible."

"Ah, but the soul-searching is a very popular plot in itsself. You are all struggling with something : a dark secret, a lost love, a new love, torn between two loves, family troubles…"summed up Treebeard.

'Irritating." growled Boromir, " And irrelevant. Speaking as a Military Leader, I don't care what a chap's private life is like : he can be a good family man or a philanderer, he can bonk all the whores in Minas Tirith or tickle the stable lads on the sly - or even in the open- as long as the stable lads don't mind and it doesn't interfere with doing his job properly and being a good team-player, I don't give a fuck, pardon my Rohirric."

"Perhaps thàt is a plot-line: the explanation for your treachery ." said Legolas with a slightly wicked smile.

You weren't capable of doing your job properly because you were struggling with your homosexuality."

"Now thàt's homophobic."

"Well, why else would they think your homosexuality relevant?"

"Why would they think yours is relevant?"

"Why would they think we are homosexuals?"

"Would it make a difference if we are?"

"Would it make a difference if we aren't ?"

"Do you know, I always suspected you of having a wife and 2.5 kids somewhere up a tree in Mirkwood?"

"Do you know I always suspected you of having a Mistress or 2.5 down there in Minas Tirith?"

They burst out laughing. 

"All in all it does not matter."said Legolas, wiping his laughter-tears filled eyes. 

"It's probably all just projection and wishfull thinking, like in those self-insertion Fics."

"Poor things. Their own lives must be so unsatisfactory and dull."

"Shall we spare them?"

"Best put them out of their misery alltogether, it's kindest."

"Out of our misery, you mean."

They set off laughing again.

Aragorn at his cornertable looked on the jolly pair rather dismally.

"Cheer up! Have half of my pint!" offered Frodo, trying to comfort him.

"I can't. Arwen will smell it on my breath." said the Man, looking if possible even more dismal.

"I know the problem. Sam watches me, too. I always take a breathfreshening mint after a night in the Green Dragon."

Gratefully, Aragorn reached out for the tankard Frodo had shoved in his direction.

"Estel Elessar Telcontar, what did I say about drinking?"

Aragorn shriveled up like a a frightened hedgehog. Arwen had come in, together with Bilbo, helping him push a trolly with a T.V. set and D.V.D. player, and various books, posters and other illustrative material on it.

"Shall we we continue? Mr. Baggins will enlighten us further on the origins of Fandom."

Bilbo coughed to draw attention.

"Ahem. First of all I'd like to recapitulate what mr.Tolkien told you.When first published, his work got but a lukewarm reception; This changed with the advent of the Sixties and so-called Flowerpower, when the Hippies took the books as their Bible."

"Flowerpower?Hippies?"

"A movement of Love and Peace and it's adherents."

"Commendable. What's a Bible, though?"

"A Holy Book whose writ is taken as the Truth Absolute."

"Dear Valar."shuddered Legolas, "Do we really want that?"

Bilbo coughed again. 

"In those days, the slogans 'Frodo Lives !' and 'Gandalf for President!'kept appearing on walls everywhere."

"Oh, I approve!" cried the Wizard enthousiastically.

"I think they meant it symbolically. I don't think they 'd be so far gone as to elect a non-existent person to lead them. Anyway, may I remind you that we do not have presidents here, and that my husband is king?" said Arwen icily.

"Stll, it's nice to be appreciated." muttered Gandalf.

"Ahem. If I may continue…in that period lots of picture books, illustrated calendars and such cropped up. I have brought some samples."

The samples were eagerly perused, with the occasional cry of dismay, grunts of satisfaction or even approval, and some comment.

"In this book, an encyclopedia at that, there is a picture of Merry, at least the caption reads Meriadoc Brandybuck, but he wears the uniform of Gondor, that should be Pippin…unless I got it wrong? I only just learned their alphabet…"

"Let me see, no, you're correct. I've encountered the same mistake in this board game…"

"Not even professional illustrators can be bothered to check their facts." sighed Tolkien. "I declare, I should never have allowed others to handle my work."

"Hear ! Hear!" cried the rest of the War Council.

Bilbo by now began to develop a serious throat problem.

"There is also an animated picture…that is, moving drawn images."

He put the D.V.D. on. The Council watched in stunned silence untill the end. Then the storm burst.

"I have a squint! And I dress in green and brown with shoes, the book specifically says so!"

"That's film-making business for you : they can't just stick to the original, oh no, they have to embellish or cut…cut mostly. Where's my Tom Bombadil?"moaned Tolkien.

"I look like an escaped convict! And I run around half-naked…"

"Now you know why I so insist on you shaving and wearing suitable clothes, dear."

"I look like a hairy barbarian." groaned Boromir.

"That is the same thing." Tolkien could not help being the pedantic professor, "Barbarian comes from the greek 'barbaroi' and the latin 'barbutus', meaning bearded or hairy."

"Whatever.I'm not a Dwarf or a Wizard."

"The Lady Galadriel is the most beautiful being in Middle Earth, who ever dared to portray her like that?"

"We look like children. No wonder they think Hobbits are puppy-dog cute, if that's the image they have of us."

"I liked the first bit though, the 'Three Rings for the Elvenkings' sequence. And the battle at Helm's Deep was suitably terrifying."

"So it should be: it was."

"Where's the rest?"

Bilbo's lungs were in a sorry state now.

"It was never made: the reaction to this picture was much like yours. For another 15 years or so the interest in LOTR was limited to what you have seen, but then along came the Internet, with the possibility of massive easy spread of Fanfics. They remained within reasonable limits, untill The Film was made."

"Another one?"

"With live actors this time. Orlando Bloom for one."

"So thàt's who he is! Poor fellow."

"They banned the actor stories from the site, recently."

"Lucky them."

"Show us The Film, then, Bilbo."

"I can't. It's not out on D.V.D. yet. You'll have to go and see for yourselves."

"Go …There?!!!? Among those people? It will be worse than going to Mordor!"

"I believe I can download some bits from the various internet-sites." mused Boromir.

"I have a Movie Guidebook., if you prefer." offered Bilbo.

Legolas held up a hand. It was his nature to be fair to everyone, even a mortal enemy.

"No, we really should go and see the film, unprepared and unprejudiced. The root of our problem may very well lie therein; I suggest a clear mind and a stout heart."

"Legolas, please may I be excused from that expedition? One time into Mordor was enough."

"No, we all go or not at all. Well, Lady and Gentlemen, what say you: shall we to the Movies?"

The War Council deliberated till deep into the night.


	5. The plot thickens

Even in the cold vast endless spaces of the Void, there is life. One life in particular : that of Morgoth, the Enemy of the World, who had been banished there by the Valar after his Ultimate Defeat. He was not alone, but surrounded by his minions : Balrogs, Dragons, Werewolves, Vampires, Trolls, Orcs….since the War of the Ring their numbers had swelled with such as the Last Balrog slain by Gandalf the Grey upon Zirak-Zigil, and his ever faithfull Lieutenant, Sauron.

Existing in the Void did not mean to be totally bereft of life's amenities. As they did not want to appear on the lists of Amnesty International, the Valar had granted him the bare nescesities. A recent acquisition had been a computer with internet-access, and Morgoth was currently crooning over a page of Fanfiction.net.

"Oh, yes! Triple Hardcore Smut With Bells On!!!!I love it, I loooove it!!!!"

Sauron appeared by his side.

"Ah, Lieutenant, join me and enjoy!"

Soon, both Enemy of the World and Dark Lord were cackling madly.

"Oooooh, yes!! With a red hot poker, please! Oooh …oooh…yes! Yes! Yes!"

As essentially non-corporeal beings they lacked the hormonal equipment to have orgasms, but if such thing exists, they were having its spiritual equivalent. 

"Aàààààh, that was glorious, now for a smoke…."

Morgoth lighted a cigarette and stroked his computer affectionately. 

"LOTR Fanfiction, spread on the Net! Now thàt was a stroke of sheer genius. It had to happen eventually. A whisper here and there, encouraging Fandom…"

"I wrote 'Frodo Lives!' on a wall!" said Sauron, begging for a compliment and getting it.

"Splendid idea, that! Of course people would wonder : "Who is this Frodo chappie anyway?" , find out, read the book, get hooked." He waggled a near-insubstantial finger at his Lieutenant. "The Power of the Written Word! 

Nothing like a Good Book to start a Following….and with secularisation people had to find something else to fill the emptiness left by the waning of Religion…they started a new Cult!"

"And then it was only a matter of time before they started writing stories themselves based on the original."

"Bless their little hearts, I knew I could rely on them." said Morgoth, "Now I cannot claim the invention of Internet, but once I heard of it's existence, I knew I could turn it to my advantage. Again a word in the right ear and Lo and Behold! a Fanfiction site was created!Ooooh, clever, clever little me!!!"

He performed a happy selfcongratulary dance.

"It went even better than I had planned! There is nothing Evil I have ever done that Human Beings cannot surpass. It worked like a charm. Ooooh, I wish I could have seen our Enemies' faces when they read that stuff."

"How could you be so sure that they ever would?" wondered Sauron, "It's a bit of a long shot, really, hoping they'd get access and eventually stumble onto the site…"

" All taken care of by one of my more insidious Evil Minions : a Travelling Salesman. He sweettalked some of them into buying all the nescessary hard-and software, as well as getting internet access, ànd he supplied them with a handy little booklet with popular adresses….their natural curiousity did the rest."

"Vengeance at last!!!" 

They high-fived.

"Psychological Warfare." said Morgoth smugly "They shall be haunted for as long as the fans will write. Which they shall, for I intend to keep the Cult alive. With all of the media at my disposal, that's a piece of cake; Take that Peter Jackson fellow, he proved most influential to my seduction, and his movie created an even greater following. Spread the Word, I say, Spread the Word!!!"

In the midst of their mad laughter, the Lord of the Nazgûl suddenly appeared, carrying a piece of paper. 

"Number One? What's up?"asked Sauron.

Nervously, the Ringwraith handed him the paper. "One of our spies came up with this…"

The Dark Lord read, and cried out in dismay.

"What? What's the matter?" asked Morgoth apprehensively.

Wordlessly, his Lieutenant passed him the paper.

"'Ultimatum'…_What the Utumno is that_? 'We, the Author of The Lord of the Rings (et al.) and the Peoples of Middle Earth to the Fanfic Writers, Hail._Who are these guys?!!!?"_

"It is signed at the bottom."

Morgoth flipped over the page.

"Not them again!"

He read the contents.

"They are striking back." said Sauron, un happily, "Like they always do. I knew it was too good to last."

"We shall see. It is a War they want, is it? So be it."

Slowly Morgoth, the Enemy of the World, crumpled the Ultimatum in his claw-like fist.


	6. The plot tightens

Completely unaware of what was brewing among their Enemies in the Void, the Nine, with the addition of Tolkien, Arwen and Spy-Mistress Galadriel, prepared themselves for going to the movies. Eowyn, an expert in such matters, had found a good disguise for each of them. Tolkien needed none, of course, but Aragorn had biker boots, black leather trousers and matching jacket over a white t-shirt. Arwen was similarly dressed, but in red , with stilletto heeled white boots and tight tank top that caused quite a stir. A white peak cap neatly covered her pointy ears. Legolas wore trainers, jeans, a green Save-the-Earth t-shirt and and a broad bandana that hid his eartips. Boromir was kitted out with combatboots, army trousers, black t-shirt and a bomber jacket. Gandalf, as usual, was in grey : shoes, socks, suit and shirt. Gimli received sandals, jeans, tie-die t-shirt and a colourful rastafarian cloth cap.

The Hobbits proved a problem, what with undersized bodies and oversized feet, which the lady of Rohan brilliantly solved by putting them all in wheelchairs, a blanket firmly tucked around their legs, their hands and faces bandaged to hide their ears and age. Only Pippin was youthful-looking enough to pass off as a child, so he was not bandaged (much to his relief) and wore a balaclava over his ears.

"Now remember to keep your hands out of sight : they could betray your real age, and the aim is to make all believe you are injured children."advised Eowyn. "Eomer has been sent ahead to scout out cinemas with wheelchair access, so that won't be a problem."

"Won't it seem odd, four injured children in wheelchairs along with the rest of us?" inquired Legolas.

"You should devide into groups, and each go to different places, different cities even, that won't arouse suspicion. Now remember, you must stick to your roles at all times. Avoid talking loudly in Westron, a foreign language draws attention, and abstain from Elven tongues alltogether, some fans might recognise it, and you're bound to meet them.

"A chilling prospect. Any recommendations?"

"Observe them, do as they do, but do not draw attention to yourselves and make no contact!"

"As if we would." muttered Gimli.

"A few more details need to be changed, to complete your new persona. Boromir, you have 'Military Man' written all over you, so I'd like to give you a crew cut."'

"Not a problem."

"And Gandalf, even in the suit you look like an Architypal Wizard…the long white hair and beard will have to go, I'm afraid."

Gandalf was less compliant than Boromir, but after some protest agreed to a cut and shave.

Gimli on the other hand screamed blue murder when Eowyn approached him with a pair of scissors. 

"NOT THE BEARD!!!!"

"Please, I want you to look like this, it goes with the cap, and you need that to hide your ears."she pleaded, showing him a photograph of Bob Marley. "See? Only a trim, not a shave. "

"And you call that a detail! A Dwarf with a trimmed beard is not a Dwarf."

"But that's the whole point!" said Eowyn despairingly, " They should not recognise you as a Dwarf! "

Gimli crossed his arms over his chest and on his face came the same stubborn expression he had had in Lothlorien.

"Then I am not going."

"A curse on the Dwarves and their stiff necks!" Legolas quoted himself, "Gimli, I said we all go or not at all. As representative of the Dwarves we need your opinion and we can't wait for the D.V.D.."

"Please, Gimli, do it for me?"asked Galadriel, a dream in light blue and purple indian silk dress, headkerchief, flip-flops and lots of clinking jewellry.

The gentle plea from his Lady mellowed the Dwarf, and he allowed Eowyn to go ahead, trim his beard and turn his scalp into rastafarian braids. 

"One last thing. I'd like to make a test. All Elves please pass into the next room."

The room in question was darkened like a cinema, and the three elves lit up like torches. 

"It is as I thought." said Eowyn, " You'll have to turn down your inner light or you'll give yourselves away."

"I don't remember you being so visible in the darkness of Moria, Legolas!" cried out Pippin "You should have put on your light for us, it would have made it easier to jump over all those dreadful chasms…I could never see were I was going to land, despite the glow of Gandalfs staff."

"Yes, I'm sure the Orcs would have appreciated it too."said Legolas drily."I leave attracting their attention to you."

"There are no stones and wells in cinemas, I trust?" asked Gandalf.

Pippin scowled, but the others laughed.

After some final touches to their respective disguises, they were devided into teams. Aragorn and Arwen with Frodo (as couple with kid), Legolas and Boromir ( Gimli might be a giveaway) with Pippin (brothers), Gandalf and Galadriel with Merry (grandfather, mother and child) and finally Tolkien, Gimli and Sam (grandfather, son and child). Each group was sent on its way with a heartfelt 'good-luck!' and behind her back, Eowyn kept her fingers crossed.

"Hoom! Hom! I wish I could come along." said Treebeard sadly.

"I'm sorry." said Eowyn," But disguising you is beyond me, except as potted plant, and I doubt they allow those in cinemas, unless as decoration."

Several hours later, the moviegoers returned, some looking glum, others quite satisfied, happy even.

They gathered round the Council table.

"Thàt was an interesting experience." said Gandalf. "Not at all what I thought it would be. Nice people.They let us in via a special way for the wheelchair and were very helpful."

"They called you grandpa." remembered Merry, "And one kind lady called me 'poor kid' and gave me a bubbly drink with a straw to go through my bandages. I got to sit next to her children. It was so sweet, they were all happy and excited to see the film, and chatting about whom they loved best."

"I noticed that attitude among practically everybody." said Arwen. "I heard them say how they loved it, some had seen it up to 5 times and still kept coming back. They were going on about an award it had won. It was like the best thing in their lives."

"An attitude prevalent among them." confirmed Galadriel, " I too listened in to their conversations while queing for our tickets. Lots of girls going all ooooh-aaaah about mostly Legolas, Frodo, Aragorn and Boromir, respectively or all together."

"You mean about Bloom, Wood, Martensen and Bean. Quite good-looking fellows, but not a bit like us." said Legolas "Which was fortunate, I'd hate to have been recognised.I wouldn't know what to do if those girls were to swoon all over me…or something."

"There were some who went up to you and asked if you wanted to hang out with them after the movie." Pippin reminded him. 

"Yes , I wondered if they wanted to put me on a clothesline to dry. Their language is confusing. I believe they meant spent time together. Luckily Boromir saved the situation with quick thinking: he put an arm around me and said : "Sorry, duckies, but we're together." You should have seen them blush."

"Yes, and then some fellow remarked : "They're letting in poofs into the army now?"" said Boromir. 'I thought homosexuality was the rule over There."

"These people are really not what we expected them to be, aren't they?" remarked Frodo. " I feared something Orcish, but they behaved just like Hobbits on a jolly day out. I actually liked them."

Everybody agreed that First Contact had not been the Dreaded Thing they had feared, and a fun experience altogether.

"Let's discuss the movie itself." suggested Legolas. "Critical acclaim, anyone? Frodo? You seem quite pleased."

"I loved it!" said the Hobbit with a sigh," I'm flattered that they imagined me with almost elfin beauty, and they did show my suffering so well, gradually growing…it got a bit soppy in the end, but it was very sweet."

"Aragorn? No halfnaked escaped convict, this time."

"Excellent portrayal! I never spoke of the burden that being the Heir of Isildur and his Fault was to me, yet they thought of it!"

"Arwen?"

"The actress had a pout. But it was a good thing that I got an active part."

"Glorfindel might not think so." her husband pointed out. She shot him a glance that boded ill for the marriage. 

"Glorfindel can go kill Balrogs. My insertion in his stead is a Giant Leap for Womankind. I shall give a talk on it to the Feminist Movement for Equal Rights for Women in Middle Earth. I hope Rosie will attend, Sam, will you please remind her?"

Sam muttered something. He wasn't altogether happy with how his wife and daughters got involved in the Movement, but didn't dare to make objections, not to Arwen.

"Yet our Love Scene was beautiful, wasn't it, dear?"Aragorn hastened to make amends. "It's only in the Appendix, and who reads Appendixes? It so wonderfully illustrated our Love and the Sacrifice you were willing to make for me, my Queen, my Heart, my Guiding Light."

Arwen was mollified; they kissed.

"Here they go again!" groaned Frodo." They kept holding hands and were all over each other in the dark, with not a thought for the poor invalid beside them."

"We wère told to act like the natives, weren't we?" grinned the couple unrepentant.

"At least they didn't stuff themselves with popcorn." said Boromir, with an ugly look at Pippin, " I missed half of the dialogue with him crunching and munching beside me. Still, the movie was good, no more, no less. No singing either, thank the One."

"I'm not thàt much of a Fool of a Took, though!" piped up Pippin.

"Yes you are." said Gandalf.

"It was funny, though." comforted Frodo"It made the whole less grim. Being the clown is an honourable part."

"Is that why I got to be one to, to lighten things up?" asked Merry, not best pleased, "My whole clever conspiracy was cut out. "

"So was Tom Bombadil - again."

"I suppose they thought it was nescessary, for the pace." said Legolas. "Gandalf, your opinion?"

"Oscar-deserving performance, that sir Ian." grunted the Wizard appreciatively.

"So was that Kate Blanchett." sighed Galadriel, satisfied.

"Sam, Gimli, Master Tolkien, you are keeping unusually quiet."

Sam and Gimli scowled at Tolkien, who looked sheepishly.

""We didn't get to see it beyond the Rivendell-episode." said Sam, "We were kicked out. Hé kept shouting things like 'I didn't write that' and 'Glorfindel, not Arwen, not Legolas, Glorfindel!'"

"And then they sent some sort of Guards to arrest us for breach of the peace." added Gimli." I tried to convince them that it was just my old dad dementing away, but they didn't seem to believe me."

"Words like 'Yo, cool it man' are not likely to be welcomed by the police." said Tolkien, defensively.

"I was keeping in character, wasn't I? Anyway, Sam saved the day by starting to moan and whine : ' I don't feel well! I wanna go home!'!"

"I was imitating Frodo."

"I never said anything like that!" protested Frodo.

"I meant my kid, Frodo. "

"So they turned round completely."continued Gimli, "And offered to take us there. In the end we had to make a run for it."

"Oh, well done, what did we say about not drawing attention to ourselves?" said Legolas acerbicly.

"We got away safe, didn't we? " said Tolkien. "I àm sorry, but I could hold out no longer. Still, the picture was a worthy effort to stick to the original book, and much better than the animated one."

"Such a lovely beard." sighed Gimli, and it was not clear whether he meant his own sacrificed one, or the actor's. " And I didn't even get to see my Lady, except a glimpse at the beginning, to compare."

"She was beautiful allright." assured Legolas. "Not a candle to the real thing of course, but no human could ever hope to pass off as an Elf.For myself, I have but little comment… blonde and booted again, but ah well."

He shrugged. "What bothered me were those arrows - maybe it was meant as decoration, but it looked like billhooks to me - and my serrated blades. Those make really nasty wounds that are difficult if not impossible to heal : when you pull them out it takes away lots of flesh. A cruel, orcish weapon : even an expert like myself cannot hope to kill instantly in one strike. Making an enemy suffer needlessly is not the Elven way. Oh yes, and those ridiculous helmets with that curly thing on top: very decorative, but unless they were meant to harpoon the enemy by charging headfirst into them, I don't see how they could have any functional purpose…just making the helmet very heavy and very dangerous when riding under low-hanging branches.Apart from that, it was all in all a satisfactory performance."

"I'm anxious as to the next part." said Treebeard. I'd like to know if they make such a good job of me as they did out of you lot."

"But you didn't get to see the picture!"cried Pippin "How would you know?"

Ents are not good at lying. Treebeard began to Hoom-Hom nervously.

"Did you see those extracts Boromir mentioned, on the Internet?" asked Frodo.

"Ahem…Hoomba-Hom! Eomer got hold of a copy…"

"Whàààààt?!!!?" screamed Gimli. "I sacrificed my beard when I could just as well have seen it from here?"

"I'm sorry, but I felt it was nescessary.I wanted us all to get the feel of the thing." confessed Legolas. "Sniff the atmosphere. Put ourselves in the shoes of the filmgoing fans, as it were. I asked Eomer to get hold of a copy for further study…"

"You…you… BLOODY ELF !!!! You knew all along! Don't give me that shoe-bullshit, it was just a trick to make me cut my beard, you Elves always poke fun at Dwarven beards…"

"Not me, not anymore, not since we are friends, you know that…"

"I'LL GET YOU FOR THIS!!!!"

Round and round the Council table the incensed Dwarf chased the unhappy Elf, scattering chairs and Council-members and hurling abuse.

"You bloody _filthy _Elf!"

"Gimli, please, let me explain…"

"You bloody filthy _fucking _Elf!"

"Oh, I say!" protested Tolkien at the obscenity.

"I merely wanted…"

"You bloody filthy fucking elven _bastard!!!!"_

"….to be fair! It's not like…"

"You bloody filthy fucking Elven bastard _sonofabitch!_"

Legolas turned and faced the Dwarf.

"WILL YOU PLEASE CALM DOWN AND LISTEN?!?"

Instead, Gimli went for the troath. The Elf swivelled and rolled over the table to safety at the other side. The Dwarf would have gone after him, had not Aragorn and Boromir grabbed his arms.

"Calm down, Gimli, hear what Legolas has to say, you know him well enough to realise that he would not have done such a thing without good reason." said Aragorn.

"And your beard will grow back anyway." added Boromir.

This did nothing to pacify the dwarf, and he started shouting Dwarven obscenities (best left untranslated) at everybody.

"A Dwarven beard is a sacred treasure"said Galadriel "But it is not gone forever: indeed it will grow back more radiant and luxurious than ever when cut. I often do so with my hair."

The wise Elvenqueen had found the right words, and Gimli quietened down.

"Listen." said Legolas. " I am truly sorry about all this. But our enemies are not Orcs. They are people. Possibly even nice people, like we met in the cinema. That was the purpose of the whole excersize : to see what kind of people we're dealing with. Like someone - I believe Sam- said from the beginning, they are not all bad. Not Evil bad anyway. Misguided, perhaps, and I can live with that. But I will not start a war unless I am sure that the Enemy is truly Evil."

"It is you who are misguiding us!"growled Gimli. " You are a Traitor to the Cause, you're on the hand of these Terrorists."

"Hardly! Angry as I am with the filth, I try to see both sides of the coin, and want to know what pushed them to write. Either way they have the right to a fair trial."

"Why did you not speak of this earlier?" Aragorn wanted to know.

"I believe I made my position clear from the start. I have tried to conduct this Council in all fairness to both parties, and in a spirit of serenity, all the while giving us the chance to vent our justifiable anger. Now, I feel, it is time to take a step backwards and look at things more objectively. I wished for you all to form your own opinion, and draw your own conclusions."

"The purpose of this Council is to share opinions." said Gandalf. " And I have drawn my conclusions. The Fanfic Terrorists are a menace to our peace of mind, if not our peace altogether. We must root out the problem decisively."

"Hoom! Hom!" I do not like your choice of words!" boomed Treebeard, and went to stand by Legolas." Perhaps I have a clearer head in this that you, as I have not been so maligned. The Elf speaks wisely and compassionately."

"Well, put the way he put it, I believe Legolas is right, too!" cried Frodo "I'm angry too , I admit it, and reading that stuff sometimes made me want to wring their necks, but with Gollum I've learnt that everyone deserves a second chance.That you of all people should be so merciless, Gandalf! These people should be allowed to explain themselves."

Legolas looked appealingly at the other Councilmembers.

"My Lady Galadriel?"

"I do not counsel you one way or the other." said the Elvenqueen sadly." I am not a counselor."

Legolas eyes went to Aragorn and Arwen.

"Those who fight on the Side of what is Good and Right should themselves do what is Good and Right." said the Queen of Gondor, and passed over to the Elf's side.

Aragorn hesitated.

"Estel!"

"Just a minute, dear. I have to consider carefully. In what way could these Terrorists become a menace to our peace, Gandalf? So far they have only written. It's not like they are blowing themselves up with fireworks in our streets or crashing on flying beasts into the Tower of Ecthelion. If they are not, as Legolas deems, Evil at heart, then we must indeed rethink our purpose, and not slay them."

The Wizard snorted.

"Fools! Evil has often a sweet face and a sweeter tongue; Sauron was a Maia like unto myself, and Morgoth was first among the Valar.They gradually fell into Evil : twice did Morgoth wage war upon the Valar, twice did they defeat him and twice did they pardon him, only to have him strike yet again a third time. With Sauron it has been no otherwise. The writings of those Terrorists may seem harmless now, but what if they come to acts? I repeat : root out the problem, or the weeds will return and flourish."

"Is there no other way? Perhaps by destroying that Internet-thing, like the Ring was destroyed?" asked Frodo.

"I've allready checked that out as a possibility."said Boromir. Even if we created a computervirus it would only stop the flow for a while, they would repair the damage and continue, or start all over again. No, we must strike hard, and we must strike first. My friend Bush agrees on this : a Great Nation cannot afford to wait till it is attacked."

"We were attacked!" cried Gimli.

"How can these stories constitute as a physical attack?" objected Legolas"Verbal abuse, yes, defamation of character, certainly, perversion of another's creation, for sure, but how can it be an outright attack? They don't know we actually exist."

"We know that thèy exist!" cried the Dwarf, " I aim to get even."

"That sounds unpleasantly like revenge."

"It is."

"If there was no Evil intent, no deliberate attack, then the whole affair is a legal one, not a military. I suggest we get the worst cases to gather somewhere, meet them, and if they turn out to be misguided, sue them for their misdeeds. If on the other hand they àre Evil, then I condone our striking and exterminating them. " said Legolas firmly.

At this, Boromir turned to Aragorn.

"My Captain, as your Chief of Staff it is my duty to stress the importance of a Pre-Emptive Strike. Crush the Enemy in one blow."

"There are plenty of examples where a crushed and humiliated enemy struck back." said Legolas,"Certainly among Humans. You're not the only one who has been studying their Military History!"

"Then we really have to hit them hard, don't we?" said Gimli.

Aragorn shook his head. 

"I will not strike first untill I am certain wé are in the Right."

He made to stand with Legolas, but Boromir held him back.

"My King, if that is your decision I can no longer be your Chief of Staff. We are not of one accord , and if my sound, military advice is laid aside, I cannot in all conscience serve you anymore. Please accept my resignation as of now."

With that, he unbuckled his belt, laid his sword upon the Council table, and left the room. 

Slowly, Sam rose and went over to Gimli's side.

"Sam, not you too!"

"I'm sorry Master Frodo. I have Rosie and the kids to think of now. I've kept them from reading that awfullness, but I won't be able to protect them if those Terrorists come over here."

"Wise Sam." Gandalf praised him. " Anyone else?"

Pippin rose, hesitated, eyes turning from Gimli to Legolas and back.

"Fool of a Took! Make up your mind."

That did it. The youngest member of the War Council padded over to Frodo and stood between his cousin and Legolas, wearing an almost Dwarflike expression of stubbornness.

"I may be a fool, but I am not with you."

Merry sighed. 

" I'm sorry. Whatever my personal feelings may be, as Chairman of the League of Protection against Cruelty to Hobbits I must first inform and consult our adherents before I take sides.I'll let you know."

And, like Boromir, he left the Council Chamber.

"Humph! That leaves only one."

All eyes swivelled to Tolkien, who sat head in hands and close to tears.

"I wish I had never written that book." muttered he.

Gimli harrumphed again, then stomped out, followed by Gandalf and Sam.

"So it begins." whispered Galadriel.

"Oh dear!" cried Frodo, "I fear that may be the end of a beautiful friendship! "

"I know my Gimli." said Legolas with Elven assurance, " Quick to flip his lid, but he'll turn round once he's seen the Right of it. In times like these our Unity is an essential. We cannot afford to be so devided.

And that would prove to be almost prophetic.


	7. The Last Debate

The War Council - or what was left of it - sat around the Council Table in dismal silence. The Thirty Days set in the Ultimatum had long since passed, and the time of decision had come. 

Merry had rejoined Legolas and his followers, not without some reservations.

"The League supports you." he explained," But we had a very heated discussion and then we took a vote on it : the majority was in favour of a 'wait and see' attitude. But then Gimli came in and gave a rousing speech , all about how the Fanfic Terrorists formed an Axis of Evil…and thàt caused an even more heated debate! Still, the vote had been cast, and in all fairness we could not change that, so half the League tore up their membership cards and left with Gimli. I fear his support is growing."

"I wish they were more reasonable and less warlike." said Frodo, " I understand though. What Gandalf said about the Fanfic Terrorists coming over here must terrify them, as it did Sam."

"It terrified me too," admitted Pippin, "I guess my decision to join you was not a very considered one : I just had hàd it with Gandalf calling me a fool all the time."

"Any chance of winning Boromir back?" asked Legolas, without much hope.

"I had a word with him in private." said Aragorn, " He sticks to his decision. He says he cannot efficiently assure the safety of our world and our peoples with his hands tied behind his back."

"A perfectly understandable point of view from a Military Man. " said Legolas with a shrug and a sigh.

"The Hawks have chosen their camp," said Galadriel, "Mayhap the Doves will prevail. Yet the stormclouds are gathering : you must make a decision now. "

Legolas sighed again. " I suppose we had better . Let's go over Treebeard's lists again,category for category, and choose the worst cases to confront."

"Hoom! The first category is a linguistic one : 'Rampant spelling mistakes, grammatical errors, and so on…'."

"Who put that in?!" cried Frodo, "That's not a crime according to our Ultimatum."

Treebeard said nothing, merely looked pointedly at Tolkien.

"Ahem…I insisted on putting that in. I àm a professor of English after all. If it's worth doing, it's worth doing properly."

"Strike that category, Fangorn." said Legolas ,"I am sorry Master Tolkien, but we are solely concerned with attacks on us, not on the english language."

"Hom! Shall I strike the section : ' No style, unbelievable plots, sloppy pacing, logic-defying situations, endless repetition of the same etcetera 'as well ?"

"If you must ." said Tolkien glumly, " I suppose they don't have to be Nobelprize winners."

"We're not judges of literature either." said Legolas, "Next category?"

"'Not checking up on facts in a serious fic.'"

__

"He's not very good at giving names to his categories, is he?" whispered Pippin to Merry.

"Sloppiness again…pass that one too."

"'Self-insertion and Mary Sues'?"

"Oh, horrible things!" cried Merry, " All those people coming over here and saving the day, as if it were so easy."

"And coming between me and Aragorn." agreed Arwen, " As if Eowyn wasn't enough."

"My sweet, I assure you that there was nothing between me and Eowyn, nothing at all! "protested Aragorn.

"Er…at the risk of you falling all over me…" interrupted Frodo, " But now that I have actually met some Fans, I understand their fics better. They actually dream of coming here, no? Kind of sweet, really."

"Kind of satisfying to their egos, really." said Merry, "They know it all in advance, clever little thems, solving all our problems…quite the heroes. Probably not at all what they would be like in real life."

"Walter Mitty!" cried Tolkien all of a sudden.

"I beg your pardon?"

"It's one of our stories .Walter Mitty, who is nothing like a Hero, dreams of being one. His Dreams become more real to him than Reality."

"To Elves, the Dreamworld is more like unto the Living World than it is for Mortals." said Arwen, " If these stories are their way of Elvendreaming, then as an Elf, I may not find fault with that."

"I'm sure all those Mary Sues would be happy to hear that."

"Let's rest this subject for a moment," decided Legolas, "Remember, it is willfull harm done to us that we worry about, not their Dreams of Love and Glory."

"Oh, if you want willfull, then you want parody." said Pippin." Poking fun at our expense. Making clowns of us all."

"It's meant to make people laugh,"said Frodo, " I like people to laugh."

"Some people don't see the humour of it." said Merry,."I agree with Pip. There is fun and there is ridicule. And there is quite a lot of the latter…"

"But is it meant to hurt?"

"If you are going to take that attitude…you'll be letting all of them off!" cried Pippin.

"Oh, not the violent slash and torture for slash and torture's sake stories, surely." said Arwen.

"Need we even discuss those? Anything can entertain, one way or another, even a Mary Sue, but wallowing in another's pain, that's really, really sick." said Frodo.

"What if it's essential to the plot, what if they are meant to create a greater awareness to the problem of sexual violence and torture?" asked Treebeard.

"I can see that you rarely figure in one of them." said Aragorn sourly, "What if it is the plot? If they want to write a homosexual lovestory, or even a Slam-Bam-Thank -You- Man one, fine by me, but not with me, please. 

Can't they invent characters of their own?"

Legolas consulted the lists.

"'What if' are the operative words here. All of these fics fit one way or the other into the 'Not sticking to the Original, or A.U.' category."

"It's rewriting the story alltogether!" cried Tolkien.

"Doesn't it bore them, telling it over and over again?" asked Merry.

"They are exploring different viewpoints, I think." said Legolas," By changing a detail or two…"

"You call my sex-life a detail?" asked Aragorn

"….they hope for a different outcome." 

"The only other outcome would be for Sauron to win!" cried Pippin, " No thank you very much."

"Another way of getting to the right outcome, then " corrected the Elf.

"Well, it's imaginative, anyway." said Frodo.

Tolkien was less indulgent. 

"They should write their own instead!" bristled he, " Use their much-vaunted imagination to invent a world and characters of their own. Really, if the only thing that theirs have in common with mine is their names, they might as well."

"I admit it is a dilemma. Either their characters are us, and then it's defamation, or they are not us, and we can not in all conscience condemn them." said Legolas. "I honestly don't know. We've come to the core of the argument here. If their 'dreaming'includes changing our whole world down to our characters, do we approve or not? "

There were cries of 'Not ! ' and 'Depends…' and 'Dream on!'.

"What is behind their writing?" wondered Frodo, " Dreams? Why do they do it? We never actually discussed that."

"They write for fun, I guess." said Merry, "Or to practise writing. Or both."

"Well, I wish they'd go practice on someone else!" said Pippin, with feeling.

"They do, actually. We passed over the 'Crossover-fics' category." said Treebeard.

"Great, so they are pestering others as well! Maybe we should all unite and stand up against the Fanfic terror." Pippin was getting all heated up now, and balled a fist in the air, " We Shall Overcome!!!"

"Overcome what?" asked Frodo in surprise.

"Er…don't know, it's just one of their songs…"said Pippin sheepishly.

"Well, there you are then, they have a saving grace: you like their songs!" chuckled Legolas, "But, seriously, the problem is, as I have pointed out before, that they don't believe we exist, so they think they can do with us what they like. Fictional Specieism, Gimli called it. Perhaps a more peaceful method of dealing with that would be to demand our Civil Rights."

"Emancipation of Fictional characters!" nodded Arwen approvingly, " 'I Have A Dream Too."

"I suppose you could appeal to the United Nations to get recognised as equal to Human Beings , with Equal Rights , and have Middle Earth or Arda as a whole declared an Independent State, with all the rights of an internationally recognised Nation." said Tolkien, "But someone has to plead your cause, and you'd need support from more than one government of the other nations!"

"Would that fellow Bush, Boromir's chat-pal, be a likely such person? He is leader of one of their greatest Nations, is he not?" asked Legolas.

"Of the USA, yes, and I'm sure he would do it, Americans are a generous people as a rule.But some Nations, when America is in favour of something , are automatically against. Besides, it would take time; there are entire Peoples clamouring for a State of their own, and others begging for years for the UN to free them from oppression. If real people are left out in the cold, fictional ones will be put right at the bottom of the priority list, if at all."

"Nice people you've got over There." said Pippin sarcastically," They even hate each other. Maybe the Hawks are right after all ." He was clearly having second thoughts on the camp he had joined.

Legolas, seeing that he was about to lose a supporter, quickly cut in : " Any others who can support us?"

"Perhaps I have something." said Arwen, "I have received an E-mail from something called the Canon Police."

"A canon, that's a kind of weapon, no?" asked Aragorn.

""No, that's a cannon." said Tolkien.

"'Canon' is another word for 'Sticking to the Original." said Arwen. "Apparantly there are among the Fanfic Writers those who act against Non-Canon stories and their authors… I'm not quite sure whether it is meant as a joke or not."

"How chilling!" cried Tolkien, "A Canon Police, that brings unpleasant images of KGB, Gestapo and other Secret Police activities. Not something to joke about at all, and if it is meant seriously, then we certainly should not associate with them. Much as I detest them, I don't want to see those writers lifted from their beds to disappear into concentration camps, or altogether 'Nacht und Nebel'…" he trailed off : it just occured to him that that was precisely what they had been planning to do : exterminate, whithout appeal, without reprieve. He turned very pale . 

The others, who had never heard of concentration camps, and who would have been appalled if they had, nevertheless understood what he meant, and stared at each other rather shamefacedly: they shared the same, unpleasant thought.

"How awfull! It is good you held us back, Legolas. Your sense of fairness and morality saved us from committing a terrible, terrible act, far worse than any Fanfic Writer has ever done!"

Legolas looked unhappy. 

"Yet I let my anger rule me too, in the beginning. It is strange, but it only gradually began to dawn on me that we were dealing with people, not Orcs. I could think of nothing else than to treat them like Orcs, and exterminate them. And then, slowly, very slowly, the cloud from my mind, and my heart, lifted. I don't know …I…felt more …more real somehow."

"So you are. A change has come."said Galadriel, "Can you not feel it? It is in the Air, the Water, the Earth, but most of all in ourselves."

"What kind of change?!" cried Pippin. "I don't feel different."

"Don't you? Yet you stood up to Gandalf. Would you have done so before? You are breaking free. We are all breaking free."

"Free from what.?" Asked Merry.

"From how hé has written us. " said Galadriel, with a nod in the direction of Tolkien. "Our Stereotypes. 'Wise Elven Queen', 'Lost King, ' , 'Stubborn Dwarf, ' Irritable yet Wise and slightly Superior Wizard', 'Bungling yet Brave Youngster', 'Strong ,Silent and Not Entirily to be Trusted Man' and so forth. As it was written, so it became. Small wonder that we could not see our Enemy as anything other than Evil orcs and vowed to exterminate them as such: we were not written to act in any other way."

"I seem to recall that I was very lenient with the Easterlings and Haradrim." said Aragorn.

"So you were, but had they been Orcs, it would have been different. We not only are Stereotypes, we think in Stereotypes. Therefore we saw the Fanfic Writers as Stereotype Evil Enemy.Yet we have come to be more discerning, for the Boundaries are fading, and nothing is as it was before."

"Boundaries…between our Reality and Theirs?" asked Legolas.

"Exactly. Everything exists somewhere, and so wé exist, in a Reality of Fiction."

"I'm getting confused." sighed Pippin, "What are we, Real or Fictional?" 

"What a minute! " cried Merry, "Remember how, when we made our peace with Mr. Tolkien, Frodo pointed out that we were acting in a fanfic?"

"Yes, and that was when we swore vengeance upon the Fanfic Writers." said Legolas exitedly, "Merry, I believe you are on to something. That may have started it all!"

Galadriel shook her head. "No, the changes were there before: their Reality had invaded our Fiction already. We became aware. We became aware of him!"

Again she nodded at Tolkien, " And we took him into our World. Or so it was in that particular fic.Creator and Creation stood face to face. It may not have been the beginning, but it certainly was the pivotal point. The Boundaries fell. We took the fic up from there, and contiunued it. Yet instead of that fic, which was finished, ruling us, we were free to act in our own way. At first, that was the stereotype way, as set within that fic, but we have evolved, and there is no stopping it now. We are becoming."

"Becoming?"

"Becoming real people."

The expressions of those present ranged from apprehension to terror.

"Can't we just sent Mr. Tolkien back to the Dead?" asked Frodo.

"Or get rid of that one author, Treebeard, do we have info on that person?" asked Legolas.

"I'd need a name…"

"Try cross-referencing with fics including Master Tolkien."

Treebeard tapped in the data into his laptop.

"I believe I've got it. 'the Trial of Tolkien', by someone called Aemi. No biography, just an E-mail adress."

"Mail that person to withdraw the story at once!" ordered Legolas;

"It will make no difference." said Galadriel, "The Story has not only been written, but read."

"That leaves us no other option than to kill that Aemi. " said Aragorn. "One life sacrificed for the sake of both our worlds."

"Everything existst somewhere," Galadriel reminded him, " Even the Dead: witness Master Tolkien. And the Wheels have been set in motion, they will not be stopped in so simplistic a fashion. In our Fiction, it was all a matter of destroying the Ring for Evil to disappear. But in the Reality of Humankind, matters may be very different."

Tolkien sighed deeply.

"It is all my fault. My critics were right. They said my story was too Manichaean : Good Guys, pure as driven snow, versus Bad Guys. I tried though… but when you have a Dark Lord and Orcs and Trolls for an Enemy what else can they be but Evil incarnate? In my World it is very different indeed, allthough we often made it appear so. I fought in a terrible war , and was told that the soldiers in the opposite trench wère evil incarnate, that they speared babies on their bayonets and chopped the hands of women; and the other fellows were told that thèy were in the Right and we in the Wrong. And the women and babies stories weren't true either. Though some may have been Orcish, most were ordinary men , like us, with women and babies of their own, trying to make the best of things, driven into war by forces beyond their control. Like Politics. I never liked Politics, so I kept it out of my story as much as I could. And now I pay the price for my simplistic visions.I should have known better than to let myself carried away so. I did know better, but I did not want to know: I was so angry and disgusted with what I read : my life's work perverted, that I became a Hawk. I should have been the one to stop you : this whole War is a terrible mistake!" 

He burst into tears, " All I ever wanted was to write an entertaining story! If only I could unwrite it!"

"Perhaps you can." said Galadriel. " You are the Creator, after all."

"Do you want him to write us into nothingness?" cried Merry, appalled.

"I believe I suggested something like that from the beginning." said Aragorn. "And you all told mé that it was a bad idea."

"Not unwrite, rewrite." said Galadriel.

"Reset the Boundaries, you mean, just like that?" asked Legolas.

"Would it work? " asked Frodo, "Isn't it too late, with their Reality so far into our Fiction?"

"Perhaps a try-out?" suggested Treebeard.

"On what? We might unsettle the balance even more. Accelerate the process." said Arwen.

"Well, there is one thing that can safely be changed!" said Frodo, " And that's you and Aragorn. You are still much as how that Aemi has written you."

"And for that alone that terrorist should be damned to Utumno and back." growled Aragorn. Then he cast a furtive glance at Arwen. To his relief, she nodded in agreement.

"Try it, Mr.Tolkien." said Frodo encouragingly.

"But I can't just write : 'And then they were themselves again.' !" protested the Author, "I must have a plausible explanation, that's what story-writing is all about!"

"What with wavering realities , every explanation will seem like a plausible one! Just call it Magic!" said Pippin.

The Author took out a note-book and pen (laptops were beyond him) and started to scribble. Then he read what he had scribbled, crossed it out, started again, read, and tore out the paper and crumpled it up.

"It's no good. Inspiration doesn't come just like thàt!" he snapped his fingers.

Galadriel went over to him.

"Have faith in your ability. We all have faith in you. " said she, in a soft voice, laying a gentle hand upon his shoulder.

Tolkien started to write again. After a while, he gave a satisfied grunt. " Done! Should I read it aloud?" 

"Best let the magic do its work in silence. But you must wish it to be so!"

"With all my heart!" Tolkien closed his eyes and pressed the notebook to his chest. " As I have written, so shall it be!"

And Galadriel went over to Aragorn and Arwen, and looked each of them deep into the eyes, and into their souls, deep, deep, deeper stll, untill she found the cores that were the essential Arwen and Aragorn, as Tolkien had written them; and she chased away the false Characters the Evil Fanfic Terrorist had given them. And Aragorn straightened his back, and in his eyes Resolve and Strength came again; and Arwen's face softened, and in her eyes shone Wisdom and Love. They were themselves again.

Everyone cheered.

"Hurray for Tolkien! The Author who can beat any Fanfic Writer!" 

"We're saved!"

Smilingly, Tolkien showed them what he had written : and it was exactly what had happened.

Arwen turned to Aragorn, and took his hands in hers.

"Welcome back, my love."

"Are you sure?" he asked with a smile, " Perhaps you'd prefer me as a meek and obedient husband."

Arwen laughed." You know me better than that! Although…" she added with a slightly mischievous smile, " I'd still prefer you to wear something else than your Ranger outfit."

"Not the Armanis!"

"Not the Armanis." conceded Arwen.

"Hip hip hooray!" cried Pippin dancing up and down, " They are truly themselves! Oh! " He stopped in mid - caper. "Are you still going to give that talk on Feminism? Only my Diamond so wanted to come, see…"

Arwen laughed.again.

"Yes Pippin, I still am. I may not be the bossy Arwen anymore, but I do think a little Women's Lib wouldn't come amiss over here!"

"Provided there will still be an over Here" Legolas reminded them."We may be able to rewrite our Fiction, but can we reset the Boundaries? It is not said that Master Tolkien has power over his Reality : he is only The Creator over Here. What I would like to know is how exactly we learned of the Fanfics. For my part I was first told about them by Gimli."

"I found the site on the Internet."confessed Pippin.

"How did the Internet get here?" wondered Merry, " It's an invention from over there, along with Computers, Cellphones and Electricky and stuff."

"There was a man selling it at the door."said Pippin, " He showed me all you could do with a computer. As I wanted to write a History of the Tooks, I thought it might come in handy. He talked me into getting an Internet connection as well, because, said he, there were lots of informative sites."

Legolas frowned deeply.

"Gimli told me almost exactly the same story; only he wanted to look up sites on mineralogy, and got a booklet with popular sites. Fanfiction.net was among them."

"The same thing happened to us in Minas Tirith!"cried Aragorn, "Was it the same man? Has anyone else had dealings with him?" 

Frodo, rather shamefacedly, admitted that he and Bilbo had received a similar visit, and, after much embarrased homming ('I thought it might help us in our search for Entwives…') so did Treebeard.

Each one's discription of the man was exactly the same : youngish, three-piece suit, slicked back hair, a small suitcase and a very glib tongue.

"So, regardless of Time and Space, this same man has gone to each you, even those who live in Valinor, even Boromir who resides in the halls of Mandos. This cannot be a coïncidence."said Galadriel pensively, " Excuse me, but this is something I must look into urgently. The menace may be greater than we thought."

She left hurriedly.

"How much greater can it get?!?" cried Frodo in despair.

"Galadriel fears a sinister purpose behind all this."said Arwen, "A master manipulator whose cruel mind has plotted it all. I can think of only one such Being."

"Morgoth." said Legolas in a terrible voice, " The Enemy of the World."

XXX

A little more serious this chapter; one does get serious when one's own execution is under discussion. 

The firing squad? Legolas with lots of arrows! Beheading? Gimli with the axe on the nearest block of wood.

Or, more Socratic, the Poison Cup? Elrond and hemlock!

'The End is Nigh!' in more ways than one.


	8. Confrontation

The wind blew cold through the Colorado Canyon. The sun had set. The stars came out. Other lights, too appeared : one by one, cars trickled in into the Viewpoint carpark. Not just the carlights illuminated the area : flashlights like fireflies came drifting in from all sides.The bearers of the flashlights, just like the people getting out of the cars all bore a rather dazed expression. Most spoke english, with accents from all over the States, the UK and even Australia and New Zealand, others judging by their broken or accented english, came from Europe and South America. Not that they spoke much. They all seemed to wait for something. The carpark became more and more crowded. No-one looked like a regular tourist, though many carried backpacks, hold-alls and even suitcases. 

They came in all shapes, sizes and ages. Most were women.

It grew darker and darker. Batteries ran out, yet none thought of leaving. 

And then it happened, almost imperceptively at first : a tremor in the night air, a rent in space that became an opening. 

Several hooded and long-cloaked beings came through. The opening became rent again, then disappeared.

The beings remained;, facing the mass of people that slowly came out of it's daze. They started to fidget and murmur among themselves.

"Who are these creeps?" asked one outright, pointing at the beings. 

"I told you it wasn't a good idea to let go of the mind-control after we came through." said one of the smaller beings to a taller, slender one.

"Pippin, we are the Good Guys, remember? We don't keep people's minds in thrall."

"We just did, to get them all here."

"Er…they are capable of hearing us, aren't they?" piped up the smallest of the beings.

"But not of understanding Westron. We, on the other hand, understand and speak their English." Answered another, a woman's voice this time.

"Only it's not polite speaking in front of people in a tongue they can not understand."

"The World As We Know It is about to come to an End and he worries about polite."

"Pippin, please! It is going to be difficult enough without your argueing. Aragorn, perhaps you had better reveal yourself and extend our greetings : let them know that we are on a diplomatic mission."

The tallest but one of the beings stepped forward, throwing back his hood, and held up a hand;

"Greetings! We come in Peace."

The forward woman who had spoken earlier gave a bark of laughter. " Hey, what are you pretending to be, some kind of Alien from Outer Space?"

"I assure you, madam, that though we are alien to your World, our intentions are honourable."

"Gee, he speaks like something out of a book."

"What a hunk, though."

"Nah, too old."

Aragorn wasn't sure how to answer back. He took a deep breath. "We have taken the risk of entering your World so that we may parley. Wisdom can be found between us, despite our differences."

"What is the old geezer prattling about?"

"What are they doing here…come to think of it, what am I doing here? Last thing I remember was boarding a Greyhound…"

"Crickey, what is this place? I remember boarding a plane in London…now why did I do that for?"

The people began shouting among themselves, exchanging similar stories of voyage and memory loss. They looked like they were about to panic.

"We are not getting anywhere." said the slender figure. " Perhaps you Hobbits had best come forth, the sight of you will immediately make matters clear."

A little apprehensively, the three smallest of the beings threw back their hoods and cloaks, revealing their applecheeked faces and their large, bare, hairy feet.

"Jeez!!"

"What kind of freaks are you?"

"They look like hobbits"

A silence fell. All the people in the carpark were fanfic Writers (except a courting couple that had come to see the stars come out over the canyon , but was too busy in the back of their car to notice anything) so they recognised a Hobbit when they saw one. There were gasps all round.

"Oh, for goodness sake!" cried the loudmouth, "It's just some nutters dressed up, wanna bet?"

She went up to a Hobbit.

"I don"t kow what your game is, kiddo, but I'm not playing."

She stamped on his foot, real hard.

He yelped.

"Jeez, they are for real!"

"Oh shit."

"Nah, I must have hit a toe. Sorry, kid. But the feet must be fake, like the ears…"

She reached out, took another Hobbit by the ear, and tweaked.

He, too, yelped.

"Aragorn, Legolas, to arms, they are starting the torture!" cried the third Hobbit, " Let go of my cousin, you filthy Human!!!" This to the loudmouth woman who was still trying to pull off what she thought was a fake pointy ear.

He charged headfirst into her.

Matters were really getting rather out of hand now; the foremost fanfic writers wanted to flee, while the hindmost pushed forward to see what the commotion was all about. One Hobbit (Frodo) was hopping around on one foot holding the injured one, and the other Hobbit (Merry) rubbed his ear vigorously, while Aragorn desperately tried to tear a furious Pippin away from the loudmouth woman, whom he was trying to pummel into pulp.

The slender figure, in one great leap, jumped on the roof of a car. 

"Arwen, Galadriel, to me!"

And he threw off his cloak, revealing himself not only as an Elf, but as an Elflord in full wrath. 

Now Legolas was a Woodelf, and his wrath was not nearly as impressive as Glorfindel's would have been. However, seconded by the two Elven Queens, the sight of him flaring up like a christmas tree did have the desired efect. The fanfic Writers stopped dead in their tracks, and all gaped at the tree Elves. 

And gasped. 

Reading about the beauty of the Elves is one thing, being confronted with it quite another. And no amount of Special Effects, known from the myriad fantasy and science fiction films, could have prepared them for the sight of Galadriel the Morningstar, Arwen the Eveningstar, and Legolas…well, Legolas…..

The silence that had followed the gasps was quickly filled by the sound of rapidly beating hearts.

"There is no need for violence." said the Elf in his low, melodious voice ( the heartbeats accelerated) "We did come in peace. Pippin, will you please unhand the Lady?" he bowed gracefully at Lady Loudmouth, who scrambled to her feet, mouth agape and eyes fixed on the fair Elven face.

"Your pardon. We understand your confusion. Yet ours too is understandable : from what we have read, we could only come to the conclusion that your kind - I will not say your species - is an Orcish one. The stories you wrote are to say the least, most unpleasant.

A new round of gasps; realisation that they were confronted with the subject of their fantasies - and in many cases the object of their desires, sank in. 

Only Lady Loudmouth was not impressed. 

"I get it. It's a case of mass-hallucination. We've all gone loco." 

She turned to her fellow-fanfic writers. "Come on, you guys, they can't be real, can they? They are just characters from a movie. And he doesn't even look like my Orli."

"Madam! They are characters from a book!!" said the last of the figures, who had hitherto kept to the backgroud, "And the name is Legolas, spelled L-e-g-o-l-a-s. As for your pronounciation…"

It was none other than Tolkien, and in imitation of his companions, he threw off his cloak. 

"Who the heck are you?" 

"Maybe it's Gandalf, he looks about the right age."

"He's had a shave, then."

Tolkien drew himself to full height, rather like the movie-Gandalf in his confrontation with Bilbo over the ring - but of course he wasn't Gandalf, not even Sir Ian, so his performance fell rather flat. 

"Madam, I am the Author!!!"

"I thought they had a woman scriptwriter."

Now it was Tolkien's turn to gasp.

"Madam, I am John Ronald Reuel Tolkien , and I wrote the 'The lord of the Rings' trilogy half a century before they even made that film! I am the Creator!!!"

"I''ve heard of you!" said the fan from England, " We were made to read your book at school. But weren't you dead?"

"Miss, I am.'"

"Cool! A Zombie!"

"Definitely mass hallucination."

"I don't care, this is the best trip I've ever been on."

"Check out the cute guy!"

"Isn't he gorgeous?"

"Yeah, I mean, can you say HOT?"

"Yummy!!!"

The fans were beginning to warm to the situation. 

While most agreed with Lady Loudmouth that they were probably hallucinating, they enjoyed it thoroughly and hoped to keep on hallucinating.

Paying no attention whatsoever to the Hobbits (not cute enough), nor to Aragorn (too old) or Tolkien - though the more literate among them did ask for his autograph - they thronged in on the car Legolas, Arwen and Galadriel were standing on.

If the Elf felt at all worried, he did not show it.

"Hold! And hearken to what I have to say! We have chosen you from among your fellows , since your work offended us the most. As you did not respond to our Ultimatum…"

"Ultimatum? What Ultimatum?"

"Hey, you don't mean that funny thing that was spread on Fanfiction.net? I thought it was just a joke."

"Miss, we were this far removed from declaring Total War on you!" said Tolkien, holding thumb and forefinger an inch apart to illustrate, ""Even now the Hawks among us are clamouring for your extermination. I assure you, that is no joke."

"We made you gather here, so that we might meet. Now is your chance to explain yourselves, and prove that your intentions were honourable." said Aragorn.

"Just a minute!" said the english fan, "What do you mean by: 'made us gather here'?"

Galadriel held up a glowing Palantir. 

"After we had put together a Blacklist of the worst cases…"

"A Blacklist, Hey, we're Fans, not Commies!

"Yeah, MacCarhyism want out with the fifties, and what about our freedom of speech?"

Galadriel looked rather frostily down upon them.

"If I might continue? We picked you out for being the most extreme in what we find objectionable : you seem to revel in bloodlust, torture, sexual abuse…not to mentions the total character changes, which we see as gross defamation.After we had identified you, we steered your minds so that you would all come here."

"Mindcontrol? That is so totally illegal!!"

"Mindcontrol? Cool, that is so totally like in 'Close Encounters of the Third Kind'."

"Get a grip on reality, you lot!" cried Lady Loudmoth, " The Dead don't walk, and Middle Earth doesn't exist. , it's only a story."

"So it was." said Legolas, " But in this Reality only. There is, however, another reality, that of Fiction, in which we do exist, for everything exists somewhere."

Most fans were ready to take their idol's word for it, but the the more scientific-minded among them showed their scepticism.

"Do you know that area where you find yourself between Waking and Sleep, and know not whether it is dream or real?" asked Arwen, trying to clarify, "It is in that border area that our two Worlds meet…and sometimes overlap."

"Like the Aboriginal Dreamtime!" cried an Australian fan.

"Or Elven Dreaming." said Legolas. "Yet of late, your Reality has begun invading our Fiction. We have been introduced to computers, cellphones and the Internet…"

""That' s impossible." said one of the scientific fans, " You need electricity for that, and you're still living in the Dark Ages, I mean, where do you plug it in?"

"How does a Palantir work?" countered Pippin, " We've got magic, remember?Your stuff's been adapted."

"Unfortunately, the acces we got to your Reality also showed us some of its more unpleasant aspects." said Aragorn."Such as your fanfics. How do you justify them?"

"Why should we?" shouted Lady Loudmouth, " It's a Free World, at least, my part of it is, and I'll bloody well write what I like.What do you think you are, the fucking Canon Police?"

"No, we are the Canon! Since you wrote about us, I believe we do have every right to complain." said Merry, "Especially mr. Tolkien, since it is his work you have perverted."added Frodo.

"Aw, nuts, since when do the Non-Existent and the Dead have anything to say about the Real and the Living?"

Lady Loudmouth was getting quite belligerent now. The english fan went to stand by her side.

"If anyone has a right to complain, it's us. You've been fucking about with our minds, and that's criminal. And you drove me to the expense of an airline ticket…I want my money back!!!"

The Aussie, on the other hand, was more understanding. "See here, mates, like they said, they exist in another reality, they found out that we wrote about them in this reality, and, let's be fair, what we wrote wasn't always nice; how would you like it if you found out someone had turned you into …well, what we turned them into?"

"Yeah? What about that 'extermination' then? We didn't know they existed, and they want to kill us for it."

"Ah, but now that you do know that we exist, would you still write about us the way you did?" asked Legolas, 

" That is the telling question."

It was not only the telling question, but also a most uncomfortable one. You can write about people that don't exist in any way you like, because you don't believe they'll ever come and complain about it. You can even write about public figures such as actors in the sure knowledge that few would complain. But when you stand face to face with the people you wrote about, it's a different matter. And then there was, indeed the mentioned extermination.

"Why now?" asked the English fan, " "Fanfiction has been around for quite a while. Why did you not react to the very first story ?"

"We are but fictional characters." explained Galadriel, "We could but act within the Boundaries of our Fiction. Yet holes have been punched in those Boundaries, notably by your Fanfics, as they too tread upon the Field of Dreams, and then a story was written by a certain Aemi, in which we were confronted with our own Creator. The Boundaries collapsed, and we became free to act as real people, both in our own Fiction and your Reality."

"Who's this dratted Aemi person?" asked the english fan, "Anyone know her?"

"Or him." said one of the few male fans present.

It appeared that no-one present knew who that Aemi was, though some had read 'The Trial of Tolkien'.

"If I'll ever find out I'll get her for the mess she got us in." growled Lady Loudmouth.

"Or him." said the male fan again.

"Look around you. You're in the minority, right? Odds are, it's a 'she'. And she's _dead_ , if I get my hands on her."

"You will not harm this person." said Legolas sternly. "He or she was no more aware of the consequenses of his/her act than you were. And we are fairly certain now that none of you had any hostile intent towards us. Are we not?" He looked at his companions. They nodded in agreement, though Pippin and Tolkien were clearly reluctant.

"And though we may not like your writings, we will not condemm you for it." continued Legolas, "That is now a matter for your own conscience. You are free to stop or continue as you please."

"Whoa!"cried Tolkien, "That is not as pleases me! It is my life's work they are corrupting, my creation, my brainchild, I object!!!"

"Oh, can it, Grandpa." said Lady Loudmouth, "Does this mean we can go on writing without you threatening to wipe us out?"

"This means we shall endeavour to ignore your writing." said Legolas coldly," Contrary to some, we do not enjoy abusing people.Since you do not appear to be Evil, despite your strange tastes in entertainment, we will not wage war upon you.We shall convince the Hawks among us, and we shall even refrain from taking legal action, which we too considered an option. That, however, would involve drawing undue atention to ourselves, and we do not wish that : as we have been able to pass into your Reality, you might be able to come into our Fiction, and mass-tourism would seem to be the least of the evils your species can inflict upon us, judging by what horrors you commit among yourselves. Fortunately, knowledge of you is not so far spread yet among our peoples, and we have begun banning all objects from your Reality. Our main concern is now to put the Boundaries back in place. However, there are Forces at work that will probably try to prevent us from doing so." 

"Uh oh, I don't like the sound of that." said the english fan.

"Can we help?" asked the Aussie.

"Cut it, Sheila, keep us out of this."said Lady Loudmouth.

"What Forces?" asked the male fan.

"The same that brought us first into contact with Fanfiction.net.Do you really think we would have sought you out if someone had not drawn our attention to your existence? Someone who knew that it it would hurt and disgust us to read what you had written."

Lady Loudmouth was quick on the uptake.

"Sounds like someone wanted to hurt you, for revenge. Someone like Sauron perhaps?"

"Indeed." said Galadriel," We are fairly certain that he is behind this. Several among us have been visited by a travelling salesman…"

"They do go _everywhere_, don't they?" muttered the english fan.

"That person has been identified." said Aragorn," Though his disguise was perfect, and I did not study him too closely when he came to us, upon reflection he seemed familiar. It was none other than the Mouth of Sauron."

"Who?" asked Lady Loudmouth and several others.

""That's someone from 'The Return of The King'." Explained the english fan, "He'll be in the third movie, unless he too was cut out."

"Does this mean Sauron is still alive ?" asked the Aussie, who also had read the books (several fans started to complain that she was giving away the outcome).

"Everything exists somewhere." reminded Arwen, " Sauron's power and physical form was destroyed, yet his Spirit is Maia, and Eternal. It was cast into the Void, where his master, Morgoth, had preceeded him. Unfortunately, the Void is precisely one of those border areas between Reality and Fiction."

"Sounds like a place to avoid, not go banishing creeps like that into." said Lady Loudmouth.

"That is very true, as you will find out to your sorrow." said an evil voice from above.

This time, everyone gasped.


	9. Apocalypse

"Cool!"

Amazing but true, There was still a number of fans who had not grasped the seriousness of their predicament. The huge, menacing, midnight shape with the one liddless eye surrounded by flame (roughly situated where the head should be) floating 10 feet up in the air did not inspire them with anyhing other than awe…for the admittedly impressive display.

"Aw, great Special Effects!"

"Special nothing ! " cried Pippin "That is Sauron. I knew this was going to end badly."

Sauron cackled.

"And so it will, so it will…for you.Such a delightful little gathering , this… finally the time for revenge has come.Who said that Idid not possess any virtues? At least I have the one of patience.I've waited a long time for this." He cackled again. 

__

"I shall open the door between Reality and Fiction so that we may escape." whispered Galadriel into Legolas' ear, "_You keep him occupied."_

"Like how?"

Sauron had keen Elven hearing.

""Oh, don't worry, my good Elf, I know of several entertaining ways to keep me occupied…with you."

And before Galadriel could even begin to concentrate on the Palantir - which linked in to both Worlds and was therefore the key to opening the Door - he whipped out a 13 and 1/2 inch yew wood wand and cried out : " Avada Kedavra!" pointing at the Elvenqueen. Galadriel fell, stately as a beech tree, and was dead.

"A little trick I learned from one of my esteemed colleagues." said the Dark Lord, mockingly blowing on the wand tip.

"Not fair!" cried one of the fans," That's stolen from Harry Potter, you cheat!"

"Famous for it, my dear!" purred Sauron, " But what are you complaining about? It is you who started the Crossovers." He pointed the wand in a rather coquettish gesture and zapped the fan.

That finally brought the message home : that the floating being was a real, trigger- happy Dark Lord with a real wand and a very real desire for vengeance.

They screamed as one woman (and even the miscellaneous men).

"Your quarrel is with us, Sauron!" cried Aragorn, "Let these people be, and let them depart in peace."

"Oh, be assured that I shall let the Rest In Peace. Anyway, weren't you the ones who declared war on them? You should be glad that I am saving you the trouble of getting rid of them. Let me show you how it's done."

He zapped another fan.

Meanwhile, Arwen had jumped down next to the prostrate body of Galadriel to gather up the Palantir and open the Door in her stead. Unfortunately, the fans were in a panic and running : the Palantir got kicked out of her hands, and she barely managed to keep upright and avoid being trampled. Aragorn rushed to the aid of his wife but was caught in the stampede; Merry and Frodo had the sense to scramble up a car, while Pippin ducked under it. Legolas too jumped down, in order to drag Tolkien to safety in a narrow strip between two cars.

"Now would be a good time to start Rewriting!"hissed the Elf at the poor Author, who was shaking with fright.

"What have I done, what have I done? This is worse than the trenches! "

In a matter of seconds, the quiet carpark had been recreated into a warzone. Sauron was having the time of his life swooping around like a vulture and throwing lightning bolts at the fans, who scrambled every which way. Occasionally, a car got hit, and burst into flames. 

Then, of a sudden, an opening appeared in the sky.

"Oh, well done!" cried Legolas, "You've written us a Door!"

"But I haven't even begun to write!" 

"Then who? Did Arwen manage…" he looked around, and saw the Palantir happily bouncing towards the edge of the Canyon and over.

"Apparently not."

The opening was now wide enough to let a man through ; but instead, it was something with a red, conical nose and a grey tubular body with fins and fire at the tail that came flying through. It plunged straight into Sauron. 

There was a rather satisfying little explosion that flattened everyone. Of the Dark Lord, nothing remained except the ashes of his wand that were blown away by the wind.

"A Miracle!" cried Tolkien

"No, I believe that was a missile…well I suppose one might call it a miracle too." said Legolas."And Boromir is our miracl- worker."

And indeed it was. Grinning, the ex-Chief of Staff stepped through the Door, followed by Eowyn, Treebeard, Faramir and Elrond."

"Boromir, beyond all hope!" cried Aragorn, as he helped a bruised and battered Arwen to her feet

We thought you had sided with the Hawks and would not come to our aid." said Frodo."How did you manage to be so right on time?"

"Not for some." said Elrond sadly, pointing at the corpses that lay scattered all over the carpark.

Boromir knelt by Galadriel and bowed his head in grief.

"I am sorry. We followed your actions through the Palantir of Orthanc, and when Sauron appeared I immediately rigged up our new Missile Defense System, which we had for Operation Praying Mantis. Unfortunately, we had only one missile, to try it out before we placed an order for more,and now we are not likely to get any others since all objects from Reality are banned…it's lucky that the System had not yet been dismantled! Master Elrond used the Key to open the door, but we were not fast enough…"

Pippin peered out from under the car.

"Are you sure the danger is past? Sauron has this nasty habit of reappearing everytime we think we've beaten him."

"In Reality, when something is hit like he was, it's dead, and usually stays dead." said Boromir reassuringly.

Eowyn presented Aragorn with his sword. " I have brought you Anduril, just in case."

"And I your bow."said Faramir handing the great bow of Lothlorien to Legolas.

"Why did you not bring your weapons ?" Boromir wanted know.

"That's what I said all along.And I was right, wasn't I?"

"Pippin, we were on a diplomatic mission, remember?" said Merry, " Anyway I don't think even Anduril would have done much good. Boromir, your missile certainly saves the day."

"Ah, can I place an order for a batch of…"

"No." said Aragorn, "If we want to keep Reality out of our Fiction, we may not allow any Modern Technology, inluding weapons."

"Not even a tiny Exocet…?"

"Not even a Swiss Army Knife."

"Pity."

The fans too were getting to their feet, all very much shaken. Elrond handed over the Palantir to Legolas, and busied himself tending to the wounded. 

"Pippin has a point. " said Legolas, worriedly, " Reality is no longer reliable, with so much Fiction in it at present. We had better return at once, and do our utmost to replace the Boundaries. I shall open our Door."

"Whoa!" cried Lady Loudmouth, who was one of the lucky ones to escape only slightly singed, " Just like that? People got killed here! One of your own got killed. Doesn't that bother you?"

Legolas frowned. " Of course it does, but Galadriel, like Boromir, will reside in the Halls of Mandos, where all comes together in the End.In Fiction, anything is possible: even the Dead may walk again. "

"Yeah, well, this is still Reality, and like the fellow said earlier, here the Dead usually stay dead. So what are you going to do about it?"

"The only thing we can do: bid the Valar to grant them new life, like they did Beren and Luthien. Provided of course that they have Power over Reality. With the Boundaries down, they probably have." replied the Elf.

"'Probably ' isn't good enough!" said Lady Loudmouth, looking like she was ready to throw him a punch, and likely she would have, had not a terrified scream interrupted them.

The english fan (another lucky rescapee) pointed at the carpark entrance where, a few feet above the ground, a large opening appeared in the air. Something big came through. Something very big with scales, claws, wings and fiery breath. A Dragon. And astride it sat an iron -crowned figure twice as menacing as Sauron: Morgoth, and in his hands he held a Palantir.

"So that's how Sauron got into reality." said Legolas "One of the four Palantiri we thought were lost was not lost after all." 

With the _sang-froid_ that rarely left him (except that one time in Moria, which he did his best to live down) he strung the great bow of Lothlorien, put his sharpest arrow to it, aimed for the left hollow of the dragon's breast, and fired.

It bounced off.

Morgoth howled with laughter.

"I am not riding Smaug, you puny Elf, this is Glaurung! And he is looking forward to having you all for supper. 

I've also invited some old friends to the feast…you may have done away with my Lieutenant, but there's more were he came from, and to spare!" he pointed towards the gap he had come through, and behind it armies upon armies could be seen of Balrogs, Trolls, Orcs and all other horrid creatures from Utumno down to bloodsucking bats, waiting only for his signal to come through.

"I knew it went too easy!" cried Pippin, and ducked back under his car, " That's it, we're doomed."

"Doomed, yes, and not just you!" laughed Morgoth in full 'Evil Lord' mode, "Did you think I planned this all merely for your benefit? Oh no, revenge is just the cherry on the cake. I have spent long ages in the Void plotting this. It was all a set-up, and you fell for it beautifully. All you silly fans, with your imaginative writings, chipping away at the Boundaries between Reality and Fiction with every word…andyou of Arda, falling for the Modern Technology I introduced to Middle Earth and Valinor : Reality is such a fascinating place, I knew you would be attracted to it like moths to a flame; and like the flame the moth, it shall consume you. Reality and Fiction shall merge into one Universe of Chaos. In Reality, the Laws of Physics will no longer apply, nor will Magic work in Fiction, and the Valar shall lose their Powers. Only one Law will prevail: that of the Strong. Amid the Chaos, the Strongest shall rise to Absolute Power. I shall rule!"

Aragorn gripped Anduril more tightly. Boromir, Faramir, and Eowyn drew there swords. Legolas put another arrow to the string. 

"It's no good!" wailed Tolkien, " There's too many of them."

"They can't all come through the Gap at once." said Aragorn.

As if on cue, the first troll jumped through. And fell, drowning in its own blood, Legolas' arrow stuck in its troath. 

"One". said the Elf.

"We shall hold them back as long as possible." said Aragorn, " Arwen, my love, open a Door behind us so that the others may escape."

"Everyone gather behind us!" cried Boromir, gesturing at the fans," Head for the Door as soon as it's open!"

Arwen concentrated on her Palantir.There was a shimmering in the air, near the edge of the Canyon behind them. Like a thunderbolt, Glaurung dived for it, and in a flare of Dragonfire it was consumed. The Elven Queen

tried again, in another spot, equally in vain : the dragon flamed it before it could open.

The situation appeared hopeless. Legolas was down to his last arrows : soon, the combat would be man to man, or, more properly, Man, woman and Elf to Orc, troll, Vampire, Warg Balrog and any other nasty thing the Enemy could throw at them.

The fans were screaming.

"We don't stand a chance!"

"This isn't fun anymore !!"

"This is so not cool!!!"

"This is a bad trip!!! A very bad trip!!!!"

"We're gonna die! We're gonna diewe'regonnadie!!!!!!"

"Mummy!!!!!"

One kept her head though. 

"Gang Way!!!" cried Lady Loudmouth, as she jumped in her car, started the engine, headed for the Gap and plunged straight into it.

Had this been Fiction, and Lady Loudmouth a Fiction Heroine, she would have jumped out, rolled and upped in one movement and been on her feet withouth a scratch. Unfortunately, this was still Reality, and Lady Loudmouth a real person, who had spent more hours behind her computer tapping out fanfics than at the gym.

So she broke her neck in the attempt. 

Yet her sacrifice was not in vain, for the car continued its mad dash, flattening a couple of orcs, and exploded halfway the gap, making it disseappear in a puff of smoke.

Morgoth, still swooping around on Glaurung flaming each of Arwen's attempts to open a Door, cursed, turned the dragon round and started concentrating on his Palantir to recreate his Gap.

"Now is our chance!" cried Boromir.

Once again, Arwen concentrated. The Door appeared. The fans ran for it! 

People in a panic are not a pretty sight. The stronger pushed aside the weaker, those that stumbled and fell were trampled and those that reached the Door fought each other to get through.

Meanwhile, Morgoth had reopened his Gap. 

Legolas spent his last arrow. "I suppose this is the End."

Like a tidal wave, the enemy army fell upon the defendors. Anduril flickered and sang as it cleft Troll hide. Treebeard with his giant arms grabbed handfulls of Orcs and crushed their skulls like nuts. Back to back, Eowyn and Faramir fought like a perfect unit. Legolas, with no other weapon, lashed out with his great bow, the tight string neatly cutting troaths. Boromir rushed to the aid of a couple of weeping fangirls, who were cut off from their escape route by a horde of Wargs. As he slew the last beast, Orcish arrows flew and hit the warrior in the back. He fell.

"Not again."

The two fangirls, the last of the lot, made for the Door.

One the other side, someone shouted : "Make way!"

"Something's coming through from the other side!"

"Khazâd! Baruk Khazâd! Khazâd ai- menu!"

The Dwarven battlecry rent the air.

Gimli, glittering axe in hand, popped out of the Door, followed by his father Gloin, and all the Dwarves from Aglarond and Erebor. They quickly ran forward, and the door widened.

"Guthwinë, Guthwinë for the Mark!"

Behind the Dwarf army the cavalry stormed forth : Eomer, at the head of the Rohirrim, long blond hair and white-and-green banners flying. They were followed by King Thranduil and his Mirkwood archers, and Glorfindel leading swordsmen from Rivendell, Celeborn with spearbearing Galadhrim, and Halbarad with the Dunedain. Last but not least came Gandalf on Shadowfax, throwing firebolts.

The Enemy Horde fell back.

"I knew you would come."said Legolas, smilingly, to Gimli.

The Dwarf stroke his beard. "Of course. I hope I am Dwarf enough to recognise when the fate of the Universe …and the life of my best friend must take precedence over my personal feelings about these Fanfic Terrorists."

The friends embraced, knowing full well that they might not see each other again. 

Quickly, the defendors took their positions: Galadhrim and Rivendell Elves formed a shieldwall together with the Dwarves and the Dunedain.Behind them stood the Mirkwood archers, bows at the ready.The cavalry split in two, Eomer leading his half to the left and Gandalf the other half to the right flanks of the shieldwall and out in a pincer movement to encircle the enemy. 

Elven arrows flew.

Behind the Enemy Horde, the Riders joined up and drove the fell creatures forward. Before the two armies could clash, the shieldwall and the line of archers opened up. Beyond them lay the Canyon.. The vanguard of the Horde, unable to hold its mad dash and pushed forward by the rear, went over and fell to its death below. 

Behind the rearguard, the cavalry split and moved back again to the flanks, and the shieldwall closed, trapping the Enemy.

It was a beautiful tactical manoeuver, smoothly excecuted, and had he still been alive to see it, Boromir would have applauded. 

There was, however, one tiny but primordial flaw: they did not have any aerial defense, except for the archers, whose arrows bounced off the armoured Dragon.

Glauron swept over the battlefield and flared.Treebeard was consumed almost intstantaneously. The left flank was toasted. Horses galloped about, manes aflame,rider and steed both shrieking. The shieldwall broke formation. The Horde attacked. Glorfindel, like his Gondolin namesake, fell against a Balrog. Aragorn was pierced by a Troll spear : Arwen, taking up Anduril, stood astride her husband's agonising body and continued his fight. Legolas, with Boromir's sword, fought side by side with his father, as did Gimli and Gloin; fathers and sons exchanged farewell glances as they were caught in the mêlée and separated.

Then a cry went up : 

"The Eagles are coming! The Eagles are coming!"

It was Pippin, no longer hiding but fighting bravely alongside his cousins, with swords taken from the fallen.

Indeed the Eagles were coming, led by Radagast astride Gwaihir Windlord. And following them came the Ravens and Thrushes from Erebor, Sparrows and Starlings from Mirkwood, Chaffinches and Robins from the Shire, and every other conceiveable bird under the Middle Earth sky ( except for gulls : their cry would have severely incapacitated the Elven Host). They bore down on Glaurung, settling on his wings, his body, his tail, untill he was so heavily loaded that he could fly no longer and plummetted to the ground; and the birds with their sharp beaks started pecking at his hide, for there is no armour so perfect that there is no fault, be it hair-thin, that a bird can not spot. Gwaihir planted his sharp talons firmly in the Dragon's eyes and Glaurung howled in pain.

Radagast stood and faced Morgoth.

"Feeblest of the Maia, do you really believe that you can stand up to me?"

"Not for one moment." said Radagast quietly, " But I am not alone. When I fall, others will take my place. Many others. For we are many, and you, with all your Balrogs and Orcs and Trolls and fell beasts, are still alone, and always will be.They fight with you, but not for you: in the end, that will make the difference. You are feared and hated by all. You must be the loneliest person in the Universe. I am sorry for you."

Radagast's compassion cut the former Vala as deep as the sharpest sword would. Morgoth roared, and raised the Morning Star he held in his left fist. The iron-spiked ball swung and swung around on its chain. Though he was not touched by it, the sheer force of the movement swept the Wizard away, and all those in a 10 metre circumference. 

The enemy of the World had the upper hand again, and he knew it. "Neat little weapon, don't you think?"said he, gloatingly, to no-one in particular,"I got the idea from the Movie. Works even better than a mace, with its circular movement."

He slowly advanced. 

"The only drawback is of course that it swats _everyone._ Ah well, who cares about a few Orcs more or less. Acceptable losses, those are. "

Yet true to Radagast's prediction, another took his place: Gandalf, riding Gwaihir, had taken the air and from great height fell upon the Enemy's deadly weapon like a Kamikaze. Wizard and Eagle were shredded to pieces , yet the Morning Star flew from Morgoth's hand and tumbled into the Canyon.

From the safety beyond their Door, the fans watched, petrified, horrified, but unable to tear their eyes away from the gruesome spectacle. Some fainted, many threw up, all were crying. 

"Why, why is this happening?"

"They are all dying? They can't! They are the Good Guys."

"Of course they can die, what did you expect from Reality?" said an angry voice behind them, " This is war, people get killed. Messily. "

It was Sam, and he was shaking.

"It's all our fault!" wailed a fangirl.

"Too damn right it is! And now, both our Worlds are at stake: if he wins, we shall have you around for good. 

I won't have that."

And, his barrow-sword in one hand, Sting in the other, he rushed to the aid of his People.

"I'm coming, Master Frodo! I'm coming!"

The Aussie turned to the other fans.

"I don't know about you lot, but I'm not going to sit around watching the World go bang. "

And with a cry, Australia Fair advanced through the door.

"Hadn't we better make a plan first?" asked the english fan.

"Yeah, sure, like, let's go kick some ass." said the male fan, and rushed out (or in, depending) picking up a stray axe as he charged into the fray.

"That's a good way of getting yourself killed." said the english fan, " Ah well, 'England For Ever' and all that kind of thing, I suppose."and , following the example of the Late Lady Loudmouth, she went forth, dived for an intact car and jumped in. It turned out to be the one with the courting couple, crouched like frightened rabbits in the back; the key was still in the contact. She turned on the engine, and started a wild car rodeo after Orcs.

The tide now seemed to turn in favour of the Good Guys: Halbarad and Arwen rallied the Dunedain and the Rivendell Elves, forming a circle round the body of Aragorn. The Mirkwood archers, now using their long knives joined forces with Celeborn and his Galadhrim. Faramir and Eowyn mounted riderless horses and with the remnant of the Rohirrim charged into a pocket of Trolls. The Dwarves, as one body, fell upon a couple of Balrogs like hounds.

Legolas, Thranduil and Elrond stood with the Hobbits and the fans. At this point, fighting skills were of little use : it was slash, stab, hack and hamstring, and in the totall chaos of battlefrenzy it was more sheer luck or the bungling of the opponent that kept them alive.

Had the battle been solely against the Enemy, even one so powerfull as Morgoth, the Defendors might have prevailed. But the clash was not just one between two enemy armies : two Worlds were struggling to fill the same place in the Universe. The Gap dissappeared,; so did the Door, and the fans who had not joined their fighting fellows suddenly found themselves in the middle of the battlefield. Reality and Fiction had merged. 

From that moment, anything was possible. Dreams came true, turning to nightmares, all the creatures from myth and story became real, and the Dead walked. The Earth shook. The Sky trembled.

Legolas, bleeding profusely from a head wound, looked up and saw four terrible Horsemen gallop overhead.

Though they were not part of Arda, he instinctively realised what they meant.

The End.


	10. Surprise!

__

WARNING : I did not put this chapter in at first : too gruesome for my taste. I do not find violence, bloodshed, torture and death entertaining, and since it does not change much to the plot, I surpressed it. 

However, reviewer RETTAW wondered about the Swan Knights and the Guards of Gondor. 

Well, you asked for it….

Imrahil of Dol Amroth was pacing to and fro the Throne Room of the Citadel of Minas Tirith. He had been left in charge of the Defense of the United Kingdoms of Gondor and Arnor in the absence of both Aragorn and Faramir. With him were Elladan and Elrohir, the sons of Elrond : they sat on the dais, at the foot of the Stone Throne, staring intently into a Palantir. At the far end stood Beregond of the White Guard of Ithilien, with his back against the tall door of polished metal. 

"How goes the battle?" inquired the Prince, not bothering to hide the apprehension in his voice. A seasoned warrior, he knew how slim their chances were.

""Our strategy has worked: half of Morgoth's army has rushed to its death over the canyon's edge. But it's man to man now, and we have suffered great losses to Dragonfire." reported Elrohir, " Radagast is tackling Glaurung with his birds…yes! They've done it! The Dragon is down!!"

It began to sound like he was commenting a football match : " He's facing Morgoth now…ah no! The Enemy has used his Morning Star! All around him have been flattened…wait! Gandalf has taken to the airs upon Gwaihir, they are diving, diving…towards the weapon …oooh! " 

He looked up, whitefaced and trembling: "They threw themselves on it…they are both dead."

"But the Morning Star?" insisted Imrahil, whose first and foremost concern was with the way the battle turned, not with its individual participants.

"Destroyed. Their sacrifice was not in vain." said Elladan, taking over from his stricken brother.

"And the King?"

Elladan shook his head sadly : "Our father is doing what he can, but he is too grieviously wounded…"

"We should move the Gate inside the circle of Defendors, so that Estel can be brought to safety!"cried Elrohir.

Elladan laid a hand upon his brother's shoulder: " You have seen his wounds. If he is moved, he will surely die."

"If he is not, he most ceratinly will."

Elrohir took another look into the Palantir, and let out a great cry : "Father!!!"

"What happened?" asked Imrahil, striding up to the dais were the brethern sat staring into the Stone, their faces ashen.

"A troll broke through the defence…he has taken father by the throat…Aiai!" wailed Elladan.

Elrohir jumped to his feet.

"I must go to him!"

He leaped of the dais, running elven-swift past the Prince towards the door.

"Beregond! Stop him!" snapped Imrahil.

The guard spread his arms wide, barring the way . Elrohir turned to face the Lord of Dol Amroth.

"You can not stop me. My place is at my father's side…were we all should be!"

"And who will defend the City? We've barely enough men to ward off an attack of Haradrim and Easterlings, should they decide to lay siege on us."

Elrohir gave a short, brittle laugh.

"If the battle turns the wrong way Over There…" he pointed at the Palantir, " That will hardly matter anymore. Morgoth must be defeated, or all is lost! Our friends and kin need all the help they can get! Send in the remainder of our forces."

"No!" cried Elladan, " If they fail, Minas Tirith will be our last hope!"

"If they fail, Minas Tirith cannot hope to win either! What is the matter with you? Our father may be dying even as we speak : our sister needs us!"

"Don't you think I don't know that? I want to be at their side as much as you do. Yet we have a duty to this city, to the United Kingdoms, to all the Free Peoples!"

"Which is precisely why we should go!"

"We must stay…"

"Enough!" thundered Imrahil, " You forget that I was left in charge. I, and I alone shall decide."

He paced the dais, hands clasped behind his back. The Elven brothers looked at him, the one expectantly, the other fearfully.

Finally, the Prince came to a halt.

"I know my duty now. I shall go, with my men. Beregond!"

The Guard jumped to attention.

"Tell my people to make ready. We leave at once."

"My Lord!" cried Beregond, a pleading look on his face,"What about the Guard."

Imrahil smiled with sympathy : "I know that you wish to be with your Lord Faramir , but the White Guard of Ithilien must remain with the Men of the Tower of Guard . Minas Tirith may not be left without protection. 

Elladan shall lead you."

Beregond saluted , opened the door and called out to his son, Bergil, who acted as messenger, to inform the forces of Dol Amroth.

Elladan looked unhappy.

"You are deviding our army. That is not wise."

"Probably not, yet we have little choice. The decisive battle is fought Over There, in Reality - or what's left of it. Soon, it may merge totally with our Fiction : we must gain the upper hand before that happens. If that means abandoning Minas Tirith to whatever fate awaits it, so be it."

"Then we must move the Gate to a better position.." said Elrohir," Half the Defendors are encircled, and cut off from the Elves of Mirkwood and the Dwarves, whereas the Rohirrim can only nibble at the Enemy's flanks : they need more room to manoeuver. If we could drive a wedge between ,we stand a chance of joining our forces and form a Shieldwall again, this time facing the Canyon. By slowly advancing, we can drive the Enemy in."

Imrahil gave a curt nod. "A good plan, yet the gate, in its present position, provides an escape route for our wounded. Perhaps we can take the Enemy by surprise, creating _another_ gate in a more advantageous place…is that feasible, Elladan, do you think?"

The son of Elrond hesitated.

"I can do it, for a short while only : I lack the strength to keep both doors open."

"If you kep it open long enough for us to pass through, it will be sufficient. Elrohir, with me!"

Man and Elf sped away, to the waiting troops, both horse and footsoldiers, under the banner of the Silver Swan. 

Alone with Beregond in the Throne Room, Elladan concentrated on the Palantir. By sheer force of mind, he created a huge open Gate, shimmering in front of the army of Dol Amroth. 

"Quick now, men!" cried Imrahil, drawing his sword and holding it aloft, " Move out!"

Almost in one go, the troops went through. On the other side, they found themselves in the middle of a raging battle. Yet to their great surprise, it was not the battle they had expected to join. 

They saw Dwarves and Goblins, apparently fighting on the same side together with strange beings, half man , half horse, against other goblins, and a group of darkrobed Wizards, who waved little sticks about, producing lightning beams, or making the creatures fly through the airs and smack back onto the ground.

"What in the World…"said Imrahil.

"No, more properly : _what World_ !" cried Elrohir, " Elladan has opened the Gate into _another _Fiction!"

The combattants seemed just as bewildered to see the men from Dol Amroth as they were to see them. 

As Imrahil's forces had appeared roughly on the side of the Wizards,(geographically speaking) a group of Goblins from the other party charged into them, believing them to be reinforcements called up by the Wizard's magic. Used as they were to strike out at anything that looked even remotely like an Orc, the Swan knights retaliated.

"Hold, men, hold! This is not our War!" called Imrahil.

"I know where we are!" cried Elrohir, pointing overhead, " Look, that boy flying on his broomstick, it's Harry Potter!"

"Boy? Broomstick? Flying?" stammered a bewildered Imrahil, who had never read a single Fanfic, much less a Crossover.

Harry Potter was flabbergasted at seeing this whole Knight's army pop up out of nowhere, but as they fought his allies, and were next to the Death Eaters, he too assumed they were enemies. He pointed his wand at Elrohir. Had the Elf not worn full armour, masking his fairness, he might have hesitated. Now he just cried : "Avada Kedavra!" 

The Elf fell with a soft sigh. He had not had the chance to explain. 

Yet the Prince had heard the spell the boy had thrown, and knew he had heard it before.

"This is how Sauron killed the lady Galadriel! They are allies of the Enemy!"

And so it came to pass that Imrahil, Prince of Dol Amroth and his troops fought in the Ultimate Battle opposing Harry Potter and Voldemort _on the wrong side._

Everyone's entitled to one, really bad mistake.

Meanwhile, Elladan, exhausted, strove to correct his own. Yet he found himself incapable of reopening the Gate for Imrahil and maintain the other gate into Reality at the same time; he hesitated over what to choose.

Suddenly, Bergil burst into the Throne Room.

"Father, My lord Elladan! Come and look! Dragons are coming!"

"Ah yes, of course." sighed the Elf, who by now had come to expect that everything that could go wrong, would go wrong," Dragons. By all means bring on the Dragons; why not!"

They sped to the great court where the White Tree grew. As they looked out to where Bergil was pointing, into the setting sun, they saw five small shapes growing bigger and bigger as they flew towards them, making a strange, roaring sound.

"Dragons!" cried Beregond, but Elladan, who with his elvensight perceived further than the Man, shook his head.

"No, these are not living creatures, for they are made of metal. Their bodies are somewhat oblong, ending in a tail, and there is like a mill's wing, turning horizontally overhead, and another smaller one at the tail...and - do my ears deceive me? - I hear music!"

"Music? By the Crown of Isildur, what twisted Demonry is this?"

"Machines, come out of Reality!" cried Elladan, " Beregond, to arms! I must go to the Palantir, and try to cast them out of Fiction!" 

He ran back in, but right at that moment a flashing light shot out of the foremost of machines, and hit the Tower of Ecthelion. It crumbled. Clouds of stone dust billowed out. More lightning poured down on the hapless City, and fires spread throughout. The few Guards that were not overcome by the cloud shot arrows and threw spears at the 'dragons', but they bounced off the metal. As the dust settled, the machines landed, and Uruk-hai leaped out, carrying strange devices like hollow metal rods, with a grip at the end, that made a _rat-chak-chak-chak_ kind of sound, and burning lead mowed down the men.Beregond was the first to die.

The greates of the machines had landed on top of the White Tree, crushing it . The milling wings came to a halt, yet the music continued. A tall figure clad in multicolored robes stepped out, humming the tune along.

__

"Tam-ta-ta-taam-tam, Tam-ta-ta-taam-tam, Tam-ta-ta-taam-tam, Tam-ta-ta-taaaa!!!!"

It was Saruman.

He tapped on the prone body of Beregond with his metal staff.

"Surprise! Forgot all about me, huh? Well, I'm Back with a Vengeance! _Tam-ta-ta-taam-ta_! Wagner! Apocalypse Now! I love that movie! So inspiring."

He waved a hand at the Uruk-hai."The City is yours, Ugluk. Enjoy. Oh, and have Grima round up some hostages, and bring them in."

Fastidiously holding up his robes, he stepped over the bloodied corpses of the Guard towards the smouldering ruins of the Tower. He entered and made his way towards the Throne Room. There, in a pool of light made by the last rays of the sun, Elladan stood beside the Throne, sword in one hand tighly clutching the Palantir in the other.

"Tsss, there always has to be one, hasn't there?So good to meet you again, Elrohir. Or is it Elladan? I never could tell you apart."

"Back!, Saruman, You shall not further defile this place with your presence."

"Manners, Elf, manners! Not that it really matters. You are vanquished, and you know it Think you were the only ones to purchase Modern Weaponry in Reality, hmm? And more fool you to banish them afterwards : you might have stood a chance with them. Five helicopters and a couple of dozen kalashnikovs and Minas Tirith is mine : like taking candy from a baby."

He strode up to the dais. Elladan raised his sword.

Saruman sighed. "Oh dear, do we really have to go through the motions? Stop wasting everyone's time and just admit defeat.Be sensible. I'm willing to be generous and let you live. I've always looked upon you as a friend."

Elladan laughed harshly: "You are mad, foul creature, Never shall I be friends with those of the Dark Side."

The Wizard looked pained. "M_ust_ you use that silly expression? I'll let you in on a little secret..." he bend forward and whispered conspiratorily : " There _is _no Dark Side!Nor is there a Side of Light (on which, no doubt, you count yourself): there is only Power. And the people who wield that power are _all_ the colours. Such a simplistic vision, to see everything in terms of Black or White, Good or Evil. Think of the great grey masses inbetween : there is so much more of that! People have some Greed, a snuff of Ambition, a pinch of Cruelty,and, yes, also some Love, Honour and Compassion and all that stuff as well. Fools would call the former three 'Evil' and the latter 'Good' sentiments. And are very surprised when it turns out that Absolute Good is _absulotely no good_ when you want things done. When you want _efficiency_, you have to listen to the so-called 'Dark Side' sometimes, for therein lies the strenght to seize the Power _and keep it!_ Power, Elrohir! We all want it. You, me, your King Elessar, Gandalf, the Valar…oh, I don't expect any of you to _admit _it, but you do, you do! No one who gives orders, and expects them to be obeyed, no _Ruler_ can do without listening at the back of his mind to his 'Dark Side'. What is Good for one is Not Good for another : a Ruler must choose. Whatever he chooses, it will always be Not Good, or evil if you wish, for _someone._Do you see, Elladan? It is never a choice between Right and Wrong, but _for the lesser of two Evils! _And guess what? There is a lot of Good _nescessary _ Evil can do!"

"That is not…" 

"Not? Not what? Not fair? Not true? What is truth? What the strong man decides it shall be; and people will follow that thruth, he will _make_ them follow : people are wonderfully vulnerable : once you 've figured out what it is they want to hear, you can manipulate them into _anything._ Soon the Universe will be plunged into Chaos. Only the Strong will survive. Only the intelligent can Rule."

Slowly, the Wizard paced circles round and round the motionless Elf, like a wolf around his prey.

"Join me, Elrohir. Together we can find Wisdom. Think not of those who even now fight a hopeless battle : let the beasts devour each other. Whoever emerges victorious will still be weakened : we shall be waiting for them. We, the Strong…"

The Voice of Saruman became lower, deeper, more enticing.

"Join me, Elladan! You have seen what I can do. But I have no wish for senseless destruction, though sometimes it is nescessary. I wish to build. We can build togethre."

The Elf moaned: "Elbereth!"

Saruman laughed.

"Call on her, if you like, she will not answer. When did she ever? Why, you may very well ask, have the Valar never truly come to the aid of your people _except at the very last moment_, when so much killing and destruction had already been done? How many of your dead did it take to persuade them to help you? Why don't they now, when their own creation is being ripped apart? I'll tell you why : they would be _seen _defeated, for nothing can stop the process of desintegration now. Their Old Order is crumbling, and a New Order shall arise : Ours."

His voice had lowered to a mere whisper, as he moved his lips towards Elladan's ear : " You call me Evil, yet I offer you a _choice_, such as the Valar never did. Your people were always at their beck and call, whenever they snapped their fingers " he snapped his for effect," And you obeyed. _"Come to Valinor!"_ they said, and you came running._"Don't leave Valinor, or you shall be Doomed!" _they ordered, and doomed indeed where those who dared. Your father's sire was made to wander the sky for all eternity, all because he, Mortal, came to the Undying Lands to _beg for aid_ to the suffering people of Middle Earth!"

With his long fingers he softly stroked a strand of Elladan's silken hair. "Was that…Good? It certainly is not how it should be; it won't be so with me. With us. Together we can build a New World Order. We can do it, you and I…"

"I know we can. " said the Elf, and calmly looked the Wizard straight in the eye, " But we won't. I hold what you want, Saruman : the Palantir. The Key to Reality and the various Fictions. You shall not have it."

"Fool! What can you threaten me with?" the Voice suddenly became harsh and shrill, " You are alone. I can have you killed in an instant. Don't you want to live?"

"I do." said Elladan quietly, " Yet not on your terms. Your choice is between death or submission, and that is no choice. So I'll make my own choices : there is but one option : to destroy the Key."

He dropped his sword, taking the Palantir in both hands. It lighted up and shone like the Sun itself. The ground trembled beneath their feet.

"Don't!" cried Saruman, shading his eyes, "Without it I cannot control the merging of Reality and the Fictions! The whole Universe will fall apart. All will perish!"

"So be it." said Elladan through clenched teeth. 

Saruman composed himself, and smiled maliciously.

"Very well, then we just have to do it the hard way.You see, I've allowed for that possibility, and I have covered all the angles. Grima!" he called : " My Wormtongue, bring on the Hostages!"

The mere mention of of the word shook Elladan's resolve and concentration. The Palantir faded, and the earth ceased to quacke. The Elf looked aghast, as a wizened Man with a pale face and heavily lidded eyes led in a group of weeping children…and foremost was Bergil, who did not weep, but stared defiantly at the Wizard, fists 

clenched.

"My, my, what have we here. Such lovely children! My Grima loves little kids. And he has a little knife too, I know. Such _interesting _things he can do with a knife, my Worm."

"Master!"the Man grovelled, "Master, do not remind your poor faithfull Grima of his one mistake!"

"We all make mistakes." said Saruman indulgently, " I am in a generous mood, so I forgive, I forgive…but I do not forget the knife in my back."

Grima whimpered.

"Now then, Elrohir, what shall it be, Will you hand over the Palantir, or shall my Worm have his pleasure?"

"I..I cannot submit!" said the Elf in a halting whisper.

"Ah well, then I shall just have to watch you break. Go ahead, Grima, take the boy. You may rape him first, if you wish."

The Man giggled, and grabbed Bergil by the hair.

"No!" Elf and boy cried out as one.

"No? Hold a minute, Grima, I believe our friend here has changed his mind."

"Let the children go…"

"What was that? I didn't hear the Magic Word…"

"Please!"

"Of course. You have my word. "

Wordlessly, Elladan handed over the Palantir.

"Excellent, thank you. Wormtongue…"

With a broad grin, the Man slit Bergil's throat.

"You promised!" cried Elladan, falling to his knees. The Wizard pointed his staff at the Elf's chest, and he was like bound.

"Did I? Oh yes, I did. I lied. Bad me. Now, with their parents dead there is no one to look after them, and I have no intention of starting a kindergarten. Killing them would be a kindness."

Screams turned into gurgling death-rattles as one by one, Grima slit the children's throats, while the broken Elf, unable to help, watched and wept, untill finally he gave in to his heaving stomach, and was sick all over the dais.

Saruman wrinkled his nose at the sour smell of vomit.

"Really, Elladan, I don't understand you. One minute you were determined to destroy the Universe - how callous! Call yourself a Good Guy, hmmm? - and these kids with it, the next you can't stand the sight of them being killed." 

The Wizard shook his head sadly." Tsssk. A little more resolve would have done it. Absolute Power is not for the faint hearted." He pointed at the vomit and pushed the Elf further down with his staff. "Messy! Clean it up!

I gave you the chance to be a Ruler. Instead, you shall be a Slave. Down, I say! Lick it up like a dog! And I'm sure that Grima here will want to do some other doggie-things with you afterwards. He found some of those Fanfics _quite_ to his taste, and can't wait to try out some of the more…_involved_ positions.Don't worry! He'll let you live…more or less. Makes the fun last longer. I would be more _expedient_, but once in a while one has to throw one's faithfull dog a bone." He laughed: " You see, I don't hold with unnescessary cruelty, despite of what those Fanfic Writers think : it gets in the way of speedy results. Ah, but such _splendid_ imaginations do they have! And you - the _Good Guys_ - would have them surpressed! Ever heard about the Freedom of Speech? Who are you to dictate your _excruciatingly moralistic _ideas on Right and Wrong on others? Well, _I'll_ let them write on their grubby stuff. Until they write something _against_ me, of course, then I will have them killed. I'm _allowed_ : I am the Bad Guy after all!"

Dismissing the Fanfic writers and the hapless Elf from his thoughts, Saruman moved towards the Throne and sat on it, laying the Stone in his lap.

"At last. Could do with a few cushions for comfort, though. Ah well. Let's see about the rest of Middle Earth."

He peered into the Palantir. "First, those dratted Ents. Oh good, the Uruk-Hai have set fire to Fangorn. Next, that little _rat-land_ of the Shire. Tssk-tssk, all those foolish Tooks and Brandybucks and Maggots and whatnot, do they really believe they are a match for my Hand-Orcs? Ah yes, _bye-bye_, Bombadil. I see Bree too is History.

Ta ta! Really, Butterbur, resistance is futile. There! I _told_ you. Ouch. Such a painfull way to go."

He looked a little closer. 

"Hmm, I see the Elves are fleeing to the Havens, _as per usual._Oh no, my lovelies, no scuttling off to Valinor for you _this time._ Just the occasion to try that new device of mine…" 

From the folds of his robes, he produced a small, black box with a red button and pointed it at the Stone.

"_Exit _Cirdan…you should have been more welcoming and given Narya to _me._ And my beard is longer than yours anyway." He pressed the button. Iside the Palantir an explosion could be seen at the heart of the Havens. 

A mushroom shaped cloud arose, and hovered over it.

"I bought it from the Russians in Reality."Saruman informed the horrified elf, " Atom bomb. They are selling out on the Black Market. Pricey, but worth it. The Falathrim are no more than so much radioactive dust…ah, but wait, there are still some ships at sea. Now, how did I do it in that Movie? I called up a storm…"

He began chanting an incantation. Far out in the West, a tsunami arose, and crushed the white elven ships, and Gildor Inglorion with his High Elves was drowned.

Saruman clapped his hands. "I'm a much _better _Wizard thanks to that movie. Peter Jackson has _grand_ ideas: should have had an Oscar for it. Ah, naughty naughty!"

Elladan had struggled free from the holding spell, and, grabbing his fallen sword, sprang to his feet and dived at the Wizard. Saruman caught him on his staff : the Elf's body flew and pivotted through the Throne Room like a leaf in a storm, and slammed into the remains of a pillar.

"I _told _you that Peter Jackson has some grand ideas. Resistance is futile, remember? Your friends will know that too, by now. They are probably dead already."

The Wizard looked into the Palantir again, conjuring up the image of the battle in reality, and his triumphant face changed.

"NOOOOOO!"

XXX

Don't say I didn't warn you.


	11. The Lord of the Ring

Tolkien was one of those who did know what the Four Horsemen represented So when he saw an Angel appear out of nowhere, blowing a Trump, he knew that this was the End of Everything, and Judgement Day had come. 

And he was also facing a hell of a writer's block.

The fate of the Universe now rested on the frail shoulders of a deceased Oxford Don, who had the power to quite literaly Rewrite History.Unfortunately, inspiration was not forthcoming. 

He tried though. In the relative safety of his 'trench' between two cars, the Author scribbled down words, sentences, crossed them out, scribbled new ones, but failed to string them together to a coherent whole.

He was as close to shell-shock as he had been in 1917, and screamed as someone bumped into him. It turned out to be Frodo, carrying a wounded Merry.

"It's over, isn't it? said Frodo with quiet resignation," It's worse than Mordor."

"I am sorry" stammered Tolkien, "I am so very, very sorry!"

He dabbed with his handkerchief at Merry's chest, to stem the flow of blood. The Hobbit tried to smile.

"And…we…thought our Quest…was hard." sighed he, bloody foam bubbling up from between his lips, 

" Reality…is not …as simple as throwing…a Ring in a…volcano."

"The Ring!" cried Tolkien, "Of course, that's it!"

"The Ring was destroyed, it fell into Mount Doom along with Gollum." said Frodo, " And my finger." he added glumly.

"Everything exists Somewhere!!" said Tolkien exitedly, and started to write. When he had finished , he did as he had done to 'cure' Aragorn and Arwen.

"As I Have Written, So Shall It Be!!!" he cried.

Suddenly, there was a wailing cry of "_Precioussss!!!!"_ and a skinny, Hobbit-like creature fell out of the blue on top of Frodo.

It was Gollum, snatched through Time and Space during his fall in Orodruin , to land right there and then.

When Fiction and Reality overlap, anything is possible.

"The Ring! Give us the Ring!!" cried Tolkien at the bewildered creature, who blinked his frog-like eyes at him. 

Then it saw Frodo.

"Baggins!!!We hates it, we doess, we hates it for ever!!!" 

It went for the throat.

Luckily, Gollum would not let go of something he held tightly clutched in his right fist, and it is difficult to strangle someone with only one hand, even such longfingered ones as his.

While the Hobbit was grappling with the creature, Tolkien grabbed its fist and pried open the fingers, revealing a gruesome object.

"My finger!" cried Frodo, immediately followed by: "The Ring! Mine!"

A look of greed came to his otherwise gentle eyes.

"Mine!" cried Gollum, looking even greedier, "Baggingsss!! Thiefs"

"Mine." said Tolkien, taking the Ring off the finger, "I am the author, I have the Copyright, I _invented_ the whole damn thing, _it's mine!!!!"_

And he put it on.

"No!" cried Frodo.

"Oooh…" moaned Merry

"Preciuossss!!!!" wailed Gollum.

The Creator had Claimed the Ring.

__

One Ring to Rule them All….

Reality and Fiction were One. Anything goes.

Tolkien clambered up the rooftop of a car, and overlooked the Battlefield.

"STOP!!!!"he cried.

And everyone stopped fighting.

__

One Ring to Rule them All!

"Begone!" he cried, with a wave of the hand at the Vampires, Wargs, Werewolves and Blood-sucking Bats.

They fled.

"Die!" he said, poiting at the Orcs and Trolls.

They dropped dead.

"Cease to be!" he said to Morgoth and the Balrogs, and they vanished.

He rubbed his hands together gleefully.

"Well, that certainly cleared the air!"

He overlooked the battlefield again.

"Kneel!" he cried.

They knelt. Elves, Men, Dwarves, Hobbits, Birds and Fanfic Writers. All of them. Even the Angel, sounding the Last Trump and the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse.

__

One Ring to Rule them All.

"Yes, that is how I imagined it would be." said a voice below, half in a whisper.

It was Frodo, with a sad, sad expression on his face, "In Mordor, when I claimed the Ring for my own…"

Tolkien could not meet the Hobbit's eyes.

He turned away, looking for familiar faces among the dead, the dying and the kneeling survivors.

All heads were bowed…save one. 

Though he was dying from the poisoned wound he had received, Legolas still found the strenght to defy 

The Lord of the Ring. Strangely calm, the fair Elf's eyes captivated Tolkien's, and led them to a spot of the battlefield where lay the body of Radagast.Then the grey eyes broke, and saw no more.

Gentle Radagast, feeblest of the Maia, who wanted no more from life than to be among the trees and the birds he so loved, and yet had had the courage to stand up to Morgoth.

His last words rang in Tolkien's ears:

__

"You must be the loneliest person in the Universe. I am sorry for you."

"Back!" cried Tolkien, "All of you, go back where you belong,! Let it all be as it should be!!"

The Angel with the Trump smiled, and vanished. So did the Horsemen.So did the People from Arda.

None were left except the Fanfic Writers. 

Tolkien looked down on them, and remembered what they had written, how they had perverted his work.

Anger rose in him again.

"So you thought it was all over, that because your victims where kindhearted enough to let you off with little more than a severe reprimand, you'd get away with it? Legolas overruled me, but Legolas is no longer here. 

You've taken my life's work and twisted and turned it around to suit your tastes, but I'll put things to right. I'll make you folk pay for your dirty work…"

And then it seemed to him that he was hearing an echo of long-forgotten words : "…that is how it would begin. But it would not stop with that, alas!" Thus had spoken Galadriel, when offered the ring.

__

"You must be the loneliest person in the Universe. I am sorry for you."

"Wise Galadriel, brave Radagast,kind Frodo, and you, Legolas, ever-just, your sacrifice should not be in vain." whispered the Lord of the Ring, " I have passed the Test.I shall return to my grave, and deminish, and remain Tolkien."

Slowly, painfully, with an extreme effort of Will, he took of the Ring, as he spoke the words: "Let all return to their proper place in time and space, and all be as it was before!"

In the blink of an eye, the Colorado Canyon Viewpoint was empty…but for one car, in which a courting couple watched the stars come out.

The End.

Ah well, not quite.

Shortly after putting "The Trial of Tolkien" on FFN, I received an e-mail, asking me politely yet firmly to delete my story. The message came with an attachment to it : when I opened it, it turned out to be a précis of the story you have just read. At the bottom it read : this message will selfdestruct within 2 minutes. It did, along with the e-mail. I can not trace its origins.

Obviously, the sender wished to make the story public, and I took the liberty to pass the it off as mine, with some embellishments here and there…such as the bit about the Canon Police, and where the battle took place, which remained unspecified, except that there was a cliff's edge where the enemy hordes was driven over. 

Honesty, however, bids me tell the truth. 

So what happened after? 

I have no idea. 

I presume that, following the command of Tolkien, as Lord of the Ring and Master of the Universe, everyone and everything went back to its proper place in Space and Time, Reality or Fiction. 

I have no idea who the Fanfic Writers were, but I assume they are all alive and well. 

Similarly, I believe that all the fictional characters went back to being just that: fictional characters. 

The Boundaries between Reality and Fiction should be back in place, hopefully with extra safeguards in the Void to keep Morgoth and Co. from entering Reality.

And Tolkien?

I am sure that that Great Man, who in the end had the strength to resist the corruptive call of the Ring, rests peacefully in his tomb, besides his beloved wife. Let's hope no graverobber ever opens it, to find the One Ring lying there beside him.Then we'd really be in trouble.

Of course it may all be a giant hoax. 

Then again…Fanfiction.net has been suffering severe hardware problems of late; I wouldn't put it past Boromir to have sent it a dormant virus, to haunt its systems.

Perhaps I had better remove these stories, just in case?


End file.
